His Secret Life
by Ihsan997
Summary: Amandil, an aspirant druidess, finds herself content save a piece of her past that has always been missing. Traversing lonesome roads and isolated villages, she searches for the identity of the father she never knew...though some secrets stay buried for a reason. 12 chapters.
1. Wondering

**A/N: hello, readers! Welcome to one of my stories about the women of Serenity, a fictional grove of 25 night elf OCs trying to survive in a post immortality world. You do NOT need to read any of my other stories for this one to make sense, though. All context is explained in the paragraph below, or in the narrative myself, so you should be able to read this story on its own and understand the background just fine.**

 **Obviously, this takes place when the Illidari were still imprisoned and demon hunters were still considered corrupt traitors by night elven society. In fact, I planned the whole thing before the Legion expansion was even announced, so keep it in that mental time frame.**

"Mom, I'm six hundred years old, not six!"

Amandil struggled against her mother's attempts to wipe the soot from her face. One of the colorful rockets she and their neighbors had been setting off during the Lunar Festival had fallen apart before being lit, spilling the black power inside everywhere. The moment that a few of her friends had stepped away to calm down the fire warden, her mother Vindra had started to forcibly wash her cheeks.

"Hold still...I've almost got it!" the ancient elf said while wiping the last of the soot from Amandil's face with her thumbs, standing up on her toes since her daughter was half a foot taller than her.

"Enough, mom, please! You already got it!" After a good deal of squirming, she'd politely maneuvered such that Vindra could no longer reach her face easily, and the ten thousand year old night elf relented.

And it was a good thing too, because that's when her friends returned. Having her mother wipe her face in public didn't exactly fit Amandil's definition of dignified.

Just off the lakeside road in a rural area of Moonglade (if that term bore any real menacing there), the group had set up a few tents to camp for the festivities. After having slayed the tyrannical god Omen for the umpteenth time, the locals as well as a few traveler's had taken to unceremoniously setting up their campsites just a ways away from where the Cenarion guards kept watch in case the celebration got out of hand. Being a metaphorically dry region, the particular grassy patch near Lake Elune'ara that had been cordoned off for fireworks was relatively free of libations, save a few outlanders who would invariably sneak a flask or two into their tents with them. Amandil and her friends, however, were mostly just there to set off fireworks and forget about their studies. At only a few years into their training, many of them were still in the pre trials phase where their instructors, invariably grumpy old men who'd spent a few millennia sleeping, piled on mostly reading assignments as a means for weeding out the less serious aspirant druids.

Striking ultramarine hair caught Amandil's eye, signaling the return of two of their neighbors. A daughter and grandmother duo, Fewen and Caledith were also from Amandil's ancestral village; even though they didn't interact often after both families had relocated to Moonglade, they'd always set up their tents next to each other by force of habit.

"Did the fire warden calm down?" Amandil asked Fewen nervously, more worried that her mother would do something weird than any sort of legal repercussions.

Flicking her wrist irreverently, Fewen seemed to brush the issue off. "Eh...what's the most they could do?" the similarly young (by elven standards) novice druidess replied nonchalantly.

Ever the serious if caring authority figure, Caledith frowned at both young women for their casual manner of speaking and then at Vindra for failing to bring the hammer down along with her. "Law enforcement officials have the right to remove any threats to public safety. Were they to ask us all to leave, they'd be right in doing so."

Fewen was about to reply to her own grandmother, but Amandil stepped on her foot and preempted her. "Well, I suppose it's not a possibility we need to worry about if we got off with a warning!" she replied while pulling her peer away from the very edge of the lake and back toward the two dozen or so tents that families and traveler's had set up.

Never leaving her alone for too long, Vindra folded her arms in front of her and began to follow, leading Caledith in a subconscious trailing of their daughters. "Honestly, I think it would be better if we celebrated the holiday cheer without explosions. Someone could lose a finger!" Caledith remarked, even going so far as to tut her tongue when they passed a group of visiting goblins thereafter. Ironically, the tiny greenskins were only roasting s'mores.

"We could just reattach it," Fewen muttered under her breath.

"Fewen, knock it off!" Amandil muttered back.

"It sounds like you two have a secret!" Vindra said, continuing to follow the two of them despite not knowing for sure whether Amandil was going to the tent or the latrine or any number of other places.

She was going toward the tent, of course, but she still didn't enjoy being followed. For all six centuries of her life, her mother had been her best friend and constant companion - regardless of how she felt about it. Truly, she loved the woman with all her heart, but living as a small family unit consisting of just the two of them could be overwhelming at times. At least on holidays like this, the presence of other people would more or less force her mother to get outside and interact with other people for a while.

The quartet sat down, the front side of their tent rolled up so that they could sit on the blankets they piled in there while still watching the fireworks explode over Lake Elune'ara with the rest of the campers. Off in the distance, they could vaguely see the beginning of the canopy on the other side of the lake, though the details of Nighthaven itself weren't clear. As the largest body of water on all of Kalimdor, the lake was vast - wide and deep enough for all of Nighthaven to lay in it, theoretically speaking, even with the city's trees used as watchtowers that reached up to five stories high at some points. Even from such a distance, however, the fireworks launched from the other campsites ringing the lakeshore were clear.

Loud pops and bangs reached their ears, and the sparkling lights danced over the surface of the lake to create an audiovisual show that was far greater than anything she'd heard about the Darnassus theatre. Perhaps she'd get to go one day in order to compare.

Two more figures walked out in front of their tent, clearly searching for someone. Much larger than Amandil herself, the two figures were eye catching but didn't stick out in Moonglade. Zorena, a doe eyed tauren who lived with her brother two doors down from Amandil and Vindra, wore her own novice robes despite being more mature than Amandil relative to her own race. Anjula, a very pregnant dark troll whose tribe had traditionally held a pact with the night elves, had locked arms with her and was slowly moving along, wearing similar novice robes tailored for maternity.

"We're over here!" Amandil called out to them, once again preempting Fewen as they both waved.

More mobile than her companion, Zorena swiveled around to see the group waving at them from the tent. "Ah, we were searching for you!" the tauren beamed, her Darnassian bearing a high level of grammatical accuracy but also a very thick accent.

Anjula was almost as animated, her energy levels barely diminished even in her thirtieth week of pregnancy. "We asked about ya at tha bridge, but they were sayin' somethin' about Caledith jumpin' in tha lake," came the dark troll's reply, less accurate but much faster and more fluent.

The oldest member of the group's eyes narrowed, ever displeased at the suggestion that she'd engage in such brazen behavioral breaches. "That was Viniel," Caledith replied, referring to her second daughter and Fewen's aunt.

"Well, she could pass for ya sister," Anjula said while pinching Caledith's shoulder playfully. The ancient elf winced at being physically handled like they were schoolchildren, but seemed to have become a little more culturally open since the family's move to the rather diverse territory of the Cenarion Circle.

"Thank you," Caledith replied dryly while she rose to her knees and assisted Zorena in helping Anjula sit down.

Since Zorena was middle aged for a tauren and Anjula was pregnant with her first child, they were both technically part of the 'adults' in such social situations. Ironically, Amandil and Fewen took the same classes as they did, and were much older, but considered 'youth' due to the presence of their mother and grandmother respectively. While the tauren seemed to understand the social demarcation, the dark troll either didn't know or didn't care, and engaged her classmates in discussion.

"Did ya have any luck with healin' that squash that was cracked open, Mandy?" Anjula asked Amandil.

Despite the good news, Amandil felt her long ears droop a little. At such a basic level, she wasn't yet able to heal people or animals, and had to settle for healing damaged fruit and vegetables instead. "Yes, uh, eventually I mended the outer part," she replied while tucking her emerald hair behind her ear self consciously, "but I forgot that once it was sealed, I wouldn't be able to cure the rot that had started inside via the hole I'd closed."

"Eventually, we'll supposedly be able to heal damage or cure bespoilment that we can't see with the naked eye," Fewen chimed in, growing rather serious when it came to their training.

"So we'll be able to extend the expiry dates on fresh produce?" Amandil chortled in a self deprecating manner. "Great, I can hear the grocers in Auberdine rushing to send word of job offers already."

Caledith shook her head at the conversation among those considered the 'young' people. "It isn't about a career; you're all here for the betterment of the planet and the preservation of the balance."

"Grandma, she was being sarcastic," Fewen whispered just a little bit too loudly, Zorena the only one who didn't notice even if they all pretended they heard nothing.

Oblivious and the conversation's savior, Zorena took Caledith's interjection to be a sign that there wouldn't be a generational divide in the discussion. "It's an invaluable skill when you think about it; quite often, corruption and rot begins from within. Detection is always understood as involving the peering through to the inner, and healing and curation a matter of the outer. Honestly, if one views it all as going both ways, then I think actual casting and mastery of the spells will become easier in a tangible sense." The others nodded, save Caledith who had lived so long that her definition of frivolity had expanded to include even nodding in many instances.

For a good deal longer, the six of them watched the fireworks sparkle over the lake, most of the people lighting them on the part of the shore closest to them having moved on for whatever reasons. Though the sun never quite shined in Moonglade, there was a gradual bluing of the sky as the pitch darkness receded, and the mostly nocturnal group began to yawn. Even Zorena and her brother had adapted to the new schedule since their arrival, and her doe like eyes began to drop from fatigue.

A number of the tents around them were closed, the families and visitors inside drifting off to sleep after the second night of the holiday, which would likely be celebrated for a few more. Ironically, Anjula appeared to be the least tired out of all of them, but even she was yawning quite a bit after a few hours of chatting by the lakeside about anything and everything. Eventually Zorena was the one who coerced Anjula into bidding their neighbors farewell, forcing her assistance on the pregnant Shadowtooth tribeswoman as they both stood up.

"Well, I gotta get back ta Melas," Anjula said, referring to her night elf husband. "He's gonna worry if I'm out wanderin' too long."

"Her people have gender relations totally backwards," Fewen murmured, once again not realizing how much louder her whispering voice sounded than she thought it did.

"Aaaaaaanyway," Amandil said in an almost grating voice that caught everybody's attention, "we need to get some shuteye as well. Where will we find you two tomorrow evening?"

The two much larger friends shared an awkward look for a moment. "Well, to be honest, I'll need to be in Nighthaven tomorrow; my brother and I will be entertaining guests from Mulgore who knew our dad," Zorena said apologetically.

The four night elves looked to the dark troll expectantly. "Me and Melas got a baby blessin' thing ta to tomorrow. I don't know what that is, but he really wants ta do it - he's takin' tha whole dad thing seriously."

"We wish you all the best, then," Caledith said, her subtle way of signaling that she wanted to sleep. "It is my hope that our paths cross again before the celebrations end."

"May the Earthmother make it happen," Zorena said as she and Anjula disappeared from sight.

The group of four sat for a few minutes, the quiet of day being the only sign that the hour was late in the region of eternal starlight. Fewen stirred first, scooting backward on her butt until she reached the far end of the purple silk tent. "Day," she said as she laid down on her bedroll, not even bothering to wipe the sand from the lakeshore from her bare feet.

Too tired to protest, Caledith laid next to her, the head of a clan including three generations not generally given to pleasantries for mundane occasions. Vindra was next, her silver eyes sleepy even as she unsuccessfully tried to drag Amandil back with her.

"Amandil, if you stay up too late then you'll miss breakfast!" her mother said, earning an incredulous smile as the aspiring druidess imagined her mother actually finding herself in a quandary all because Amandil ate breakfast an hour later than everyone else.

"I'm coming, mom; I just want to wait until I feel drowsy. If I try to force myself to sleep, I'll end up staying awake even later."

Though Vindra appeared unsatisfied, she was also sleepy enough to cede the victory to her daughter. "If you say so," she sighed while laying down. "Just close the tent flap before you sleep, okay? I don't want you to catch a cold in the night."

 _It's warm as hell out here_ , Amandil thought to herself. "I will, mom," she replied, nearly laughing, though not in a mocking manner.

Staring out over the lake, Amandil fought off the actual drowsiness as she finally found her alone time. Even when her mother started snoring, the relatively younger elf found her mind wandering. In the case of both guests, she'd forced herself to continue smiling even after she heard...a word. A specific word that often triggered off feelings that lacked any sort of past event to be triggered. To explain the feeling was impossible for her, but she knew it was there.

Fewen's father was one of Amandil's teachers, and thus her classmate had both parents around frequently. Even her grandfather had passed away just a few years ago during the Third War, leaving his memory fresh in that family's minds. Her friends, her neighbors, all of her social circle either had lives which included both parents, or had up until recently. Only Amandil lived with just one, the absence felt even more strongly by the fact that she'd never met the other half of her gene pool.

All her life, she'd dwelled in a single village before coming to Moonglade; travel simply hadn't been a part of her life. But as time went on, and her mother continued ageing due to the loss of their immortality, Amandil's sense of worry increased.

Finally closing the tent flap due to exhaustion, she laid down while pledging a resolution to herself. If she was honest, it was to her mother as well. Once the holiday was over, she had to bring the topic up, literally for the first time in her life. She had no idea what her mother's reaction would be...but it was time. She'd waited long enough.


	2. Prodding

Two elves busied themselves in the small apartment, nearly identical in appearance and posture if not in behavior. Two emerald ponytails were tied back as they performed their different tasks with a certain lack of finesse that marked their jerky movements. Though one washed dishes and the other stacked books, they had the same tendency to splay their feet outward when they stood, they both leaned more to their left than their right, they both tended to take steps backward without looking. Like two leaves from the same tree, they worked, tidying up their living space.

Life in Moonglade was simple; not even the high ranking leaders of the Cenarion Circle lived luxurious lives. With few exceptions, domiciles in Nighthaven proper consisted largely of high, naturally grown hollow treehouses, the various spaces inside walled off into flats and accessible via winding ramps and rope bridges. Not only did it save space, but it also reduced the feeling of crowdedness due to all the green space. Since social life had always been outside in the community among both the night elves and the tauren, most of those flats were quite modest; in Amandil and Vindra's space in particular, they only had a single bedroom, a single chamber with naturally flowing water that was their bathroom, and a larger room at the front that functioned as the living room, the anteroom, the dining room, and the kitchen all in one despite its relatively cozy nature. It was good enough to sleep and study in, and usually to eat in, though both daughter and mother usually spent more time than that at home.

As stifling as the environment could be at times, Amandil was thankful for the privacy they had; people living in Nighthaven who were single or away from family often lived in communal lodges where one's business was everybody's business. She'd never be able to survive like that.

Having rearranged her books for the fourth time, Amandil took a deep breath and realized that she was only delaying the inevitable. Sooner or later, she'd need to poke and prod her mother for the information she needed.

Really, there was no reason to worry...the scheme she'd thought of should have been sufficient. Knowing how clingy and protective her mother could be, Amandil wouldn't directly inquire about her roots. Instead, she'd glean answers about her mother's life before she'd been born, searching for clues or, preferably, a location. Seeing as how she'd lived so long already and her mother had never mentioned her father at all, bluntly asking for a name probably wouldn't work. If possible, she'd venture out into the world and seek the man herself.

Gathering up the nerve to delve into subjects that night send her sensitive mother into a tither, Amandil pattered out to the main room where her mother was still washing the wooden dishes and cutlery. Unlike most night elven women, Vindra had never been a warrior of the night; of their ancestral village of twenty five women, Vindra had been the only one relegated to full time domestic duty, repairing the armor of and serving food to actively enlisted sentinels back during the Long Vigil. The woman had been to poorly coordinated for combat, and for her own good hadn't usually been allowed outside of the grove's completely hidden territory.

Except for one period...a period that the twenty three other people knew about, but never told Amandil much about. Everybody talked, but not to her; it was as if her origins laid in some deep, dark secret she wasn't supposed to discover. That, in part, drove her to finally know.

"Mom," she said while standing behind her mother in the kitchen area. "We need to...erm...are you busy? Do you need help finishing?"

"Hmm? Oh, thank you so much, dear. Don't worry, you just rest and get ready. Your training will resume next week!"

Vindra promptly started to do the dishes again, ever happy to maintain the entire apartment by herself without assistance. Always busy with her training, Amandil often didn't even have time to feel guilty, but the sight of her oblivious mother unaware that she was about to be proved about a possibly painful subject did cause the druidess to feel bad.

Still, some things couldn't wait forever. "Well, mom, could we take a break for a few minutes? There are some things I wanted to talk about."

As if the words didn't fully register, Vindra continued scrubbing a wooden salad bowl for a few seconds. Then her ears twitched in wide sweeping movements, making her surprise rather apparent.

"What...you...oh!" Vindra set the bowl back into the sink despite having just cleaned it, spinning around and drying her hands on their cat when she couldn't find a towel. "Sweetie, you always seem in such a rush when we talk! Of course I can take a break!"

Remorse nipped at Amandil's heels again. Did she really make a habit of trying to escape conversations with her own mother?

"Yes, well, that's good then...mom!" Amandil yelped as her mother over enthusiastically tried to drag her over to the low sitting cushions opposite the front door. Unfortunately her mother's poor coordination led to the woman grabbing Amandil by the pinky finger instead of the wrist, nearly pulling it out of the socket. "Anyway, there's something I wanted to ask you about."

"Mhmm!" Vindra hummed in affirmation, laying her chin on her palm and leaning too far forward for a simple midnight chat.

"Right...well, it's sort of about Serenity."

Raising an eyebrow in pleasant confusion, Vindra already appeared to be jumping to conclusions. "Our hometown? What's there to know?"

"Well, it's more about the rotation system. You know, how during immortality, sentinels would be occasionally lended to other groves for decades or even a century in order to spread experience and knowledge?"

Vindra's eyes lit up. "Ah, yes! The rotation system! I remember when Madrieda was sent to help found Stardust," the woman said with a wistful twinkle in her eye.

"Yes, for military service. But you know, mom, the sentinels couldn't function without those supporting their efforts. When they were out on patrol all the time, they always needed people to provide meals and laundry service. Logistics workers were just as important to the preservation efforts as military personnel."

A decidedly sappy smile broke out across Vindra's face, her expressions much more animated than other night elves born prior to the War of the Ancients. "Aw, sweetie, that's so...sweet of you to say!" Vindra chirped almost as if she didn't quite believe it.

"Well, it's the truth, mom. But I always wondered...didn't you ever end up stationed somewhere else? You're just so humble, it seems you never brag about your own exploits."

An almost fake congenial expression washed over her mother's face. "Well, Elune teaches that the best deed is one that you keep a secret," the woman replied with less enthusiasm.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and Amandil decided to start to push gently. "I'm your daughter. Come on mom, I want to know. When my friends speak proudly of what their moms did during the Vigil, I want to be able to contribute. Because your function is so pivotal, and so necessary, that I'm just as deserving of that pride." Although there was an ulterior motive mixed in there, none of Amandil's words were a bluff; she meant all of it, and that sincerity might have been what caused her mother a measure of shyness.

"Oh...well, nothing much, to be honest. You know, just like how most men were druids, most women were sentinels. That meant that the minority doing other things were in high demand." Vindra sighed, not in exasperation so much as from the memory of a long life that was long past. "For men, you had the barrow den guards; the male warriors who would protect the druids while they slept, and some who performed administrative jobs for the Circle. For women, you had the domestic workers at groves and lodges who served the huntresses and archers. They were quite rugged, and they weren't well suited for chores; that's where I came in."

"Where did you come in?"

"To do the chores and serve our shield sisters-"

"I mean, where, as in _where_ where?"

"Oh...well, sweetheart, I stayed at Serenity. Because men who weren't druids and women who weren't warriors were relatively rare, commanders and priestesses were rare to give up any. Priestess Lamynia was very hesitant to release me into rotation, and she only agreed because she received promises for two other domestic workers in return."

Alright, now they were getting somewhere. Dancing around the central topic, Amandil avoided asking about time frames too directly. "So where was that? Did you have to go somewhere awful like Silithus?" she asked innocently.

"No, by the night no," Vindra chuckled. "The only people sent that far away were proper outrunners and cavalry - sabre and hippogriff riders, like Tirith or Rithradia. For women in more stationary roles and men in general, rotational transfers were generally within the same region. Unelia, for example, once spent a century in Desolace with her sister, but I..."

When Vindra hesitated for a moment, Amandil allowed her curiosity to get the better of her. "You weren't sent to Desolace?" she asked with the best poker face she could muster, attempting to help her mother relax about the topic.

Hook, line and sinker. "Ha! Ha ha, ho, not your old mama! No, I would have freaked out. I can't even deal with the tarantulas we had down in Ashenvale, much less those scorpions down in Desolace," she laughed out loud. "No, I stayed in Ashenvale."

Trying to push without making her goal overt, Amandil thought of more general things that a person inquiring casually would ask. "Oh, was it Raynewood? That's the provincial capitol, I bet they needed all sorts of workers all the time," she said irreverently as if it wasn't that big of a deal.

Chucking awkwardly as if she really wanted to change the subject, Vindra patted her daughter on the hand. "Nothing that major, I'm afraid. Just a typical highway huntress lodge on the road north toward Felwood. The Cypress Pallisades, they called it back then." Abruptly cutting the conversation short, Vindra rose and then bent over to kiss her daughter on the scalp as if Amandil was a child. "But don't busy yourself with the past. Your future is bright, and it's just beginning."

For about half a second, Vindra's face became as close to serious as was possible for the laid back career civilian. "Now go study!" she said, unable to hold a straight face even when trying really hard.

"Of course, mother dear," Amandil replied, diligently following her mother's instructions so that the conversation faded from memory as an uncomfortable few minutes that would soon be forgotten.

After all, Amandil had gotten what she wanted. She had a location, and a former name, as well as her mother's information. Night elves kept meticulous records of births, deaths, residencies and relocations, par the course for a people who'd borne so few children for so long. While Ashenvale was huge, the road to Felwood was long and the huntress lodges many, the information she possessed was sufficient. She'd be able to check at the area command for a history of lodge titles, and then once there use her mother's name to search for service history.

That had to be it, because Serenity had no men during the Vigil. Since her mother never left, it would have been the only time and place where she could have met somebody. And somehow, some way, Amandil knew that she'd at least be able to find out who her father was by snooping around the barrow dens and other stations in the area. A small part of her even hoped that asking around about Vindra would even cause the man who realized that the young druidess snooping around was his daughter to step forward. If not, she could always prod other people about Vindra's relationship history.

That night, she waited for her mother to fall asleep before rising. Her travel pack full and hidden under her bed, her pocket containing a map of that region of Ashenvale, Amandil snuck out of the house after kissing her mother on the scalp.

"I'm sorry mom, but I have to know," she whispered to her sleeping mother, knowing that the woman couldn't hear her. "Even if I don't find him, I need to know who he was...but I promise I'll be back soon."

She'd left via the Nighthaven flight point before the first owl's even hooted to announce nightfall.


	3. Waiting

Amandil was really starting to hate bureaucracy.

After nearly a day of flying from Moonglade to northern Nightsong Woods, she'd found herself stuck at the regional command for the north central province of Ashenvale. The outpost wasn't particularly large since it consisted almost entirely of sentinels and a few druids only, but the problem was that it was understaffed. For nearly an hour after checking in her hippogriff at the flight point, she'd waited in the reception hall of a command tower, various cavalrywomen walking by without checking to see if she was lost or not. Only after much pleading had she been granted access to the regional command archives, a musty basement room that contained thousands of paper documents preserved by a priestess that maintained a non arcane enchantment on the old parchments.

It was there that Amandil discovered that, at some point two centuries ago, the lodge known as the Cypress Pallisades had been formally renamed the Oaken Glade. For night elven settlements, both names were about as generic as possible, but at least she was able to locate the Oaken Glade on a map after also confirming with the priestess that - surprise - Vindra had been sent to the place as a domestic worker on rotation just over six centuries ago.

There was only one problem, which she learned just after having copied the map and hurried outside the command tower, eager to discover the secrets of her own heritage.

"No civilians."

"What?!"

The stablemistress wouldn't budge, the older woman's silver eyes not even shining or flickering as she stood stoicly in front of the outpost's entry sign at the wooden gate ('Ashenvale North Central Province Command Center'; even the font that the sign was written in was plain, blocky and boring). Behind her paced at least three unused nightsabres, prowling around idly and practically begging someone to take them out for a ride.

But nobody would. "You can't be...this is an official Kaldorei waystation, I should be able to just rent a sabre here and turn it in at my next location!" Amandil protested.

"This is an official _military_ waystation. And I can tell by your initiate robes that you aren't military personnel."

Indignant fury bubbled in Amandil's veins. She might be low ranking, she might have a lot to learn, and yes, she wielded a staff like a resto druid instead of claw gauntlets like the feral druid she was because she'd once accidentally claw punched Fewen in the foot, but she still demanded a certain level of respect. "I'm not an initiate, I'm a novice!" she retorted, intended to defend her rank. When she realized that she'd positively identified herself as a rank that still rendered her a noob, she blushed.

The stablemistress didn't even bother crossing her arms defiantly, as if the discussion wasn't worth her time. Hands aplomb at her sides, the woman continued to stare straight ahead, pretending that she didn't even notice the emerald haired novice's presence.

"Look...I was a sentinel once, too! I served as light infantry at Serenity Grove for a few centuries-"

"So you're currently on leave?" the stablemistress asked tersely.

"Well, no, I-"

"Because the ID you flashed me is for a student, not an actively enlisted servicewoman."

Pursing her lips and forcing her mouth to stop talking, Amandil tried and failed to produce a strong reply. True, she'd been a huntress once, riding on leaner nightsabres for the purposes of flanking enemy units, but that ended the day their people had joined the ranks of mortals; their servitude to nature had ended, and they were free to choose the professional paths they wanted. For Amandil, that had led her to her current focus.

"Goddess light your path," Amandil mumbled while walking away, heading north in the general direction of the Oaken Glade.

"If you're at least a novice, you should be able to shift and travel!" the stablemistress shouted after her, as if trying to make up for not helping at all.

"I'll shift you," Amandil muttered under her breath, no longer caring that her insult didn't make any sense.

Walking to the northern edge of the remote outpost in a very rural, thinly populated region, the aspiring druidess gazed out from the stone, arched walls and into the forest beyond. She'd already flown over that area just to reach the administrative capitol; maybe some of the terrain would even feel familiar to her.

Stepping onto the part of the road just beyond the heavily guarded walls, Amandil stretched a bit inside of the panther pelt that she wore as armor. Most of her class tended to hunt their chosen spirit animal, ritually thank it for its sacrifice and then wear the pelt to aid in shapeshifting, but Amandil was still learning to control that. The chosen spirit animal she'd tracked had been kind of sick and seemed to have possessed poor depth perception, which she struggled with whenever shifted. Strapping her staff to her back and holding her arms out, she pushed herself through a few breathing exercises and prepared.

Familiar green swirls surrounded her in the only spell she had a decent amount of control over. Unlike her first few months, shapeshifting no longer hurt like hell, and she found her field of vision dropping lower and expanding wider, though a bit less of the color spectrum was visible. Her front paws touched the ground, her body elongated and a considerably greater amount of power coursed through her. A sleek, purple panther with emerald colored fur markings stood where the elf had been, ready to bound down the road, following the map she'd memorized to the best of her ability (her backpack had shifted as a part of her fur coat, and was inaccessible now).

For a good few hours Amandil sprinted toward the region that the Oaken Glade was supposed to be centered in. More than once, or twice...okay, five times, she tried to run among the high jutting roots and the hills off the main road and ended up underestimating the distance of a few jumps, dirtying her purple fur when she tumbled. Fortunately nobody was there to witness her poor depth perception when shifted, and she continued on her way until the naturally conjured starlight of Kaldorei lanterns could be seen hanging from the boughs of exceptionally high trees.

"The Oaken Glade!" she meowed, not realizing that she'd tried to speak halfway through her shift back into elven form. Once again, nobody was there to hear her, and she strolled down the lightly beaten path on two feet.

As a testament to how remote the entire province was, this place seemed even smaller than the regional capitol that didn't have a proper name. There were no high wooden walls, and even though ancient protectors ringed the area, it still felt rather open and downright civilian. There were even a few cottages, naturally grown but still featuring what would appear to be carpentry work to outlanders. Speaking of which, there were none there; even after her people's agreement signed with the outlanders whose flag was blue and gold (Amandil still hadn't learned Common fluently, and lost track of all the foreign names), some of the smaller villages in areas with lower population density still lacked members of any of the small, squishy races that were considered allies for the time being.

The lake behind the main huntress lodge sparkled from the lantern lights. That water in particular appeared inviting, though the villagers appeared so busy that it was no wonder that nobody was swimming. A few druids, including another woman, sat cross legged and meditated while vegetables sprouted up in a garden in a matter of minutes before being harvested right away, only for more to grow in their place. There were archers, including a man, patrolling from the thick branches of the huge Ashenvale purplewoods above. Various skilled workers performed tasks around the few dirt roads that comprised the village, assisted by wisps as they undertook clearly domestic tasks. Amandil could quite easily imagine her mother having spent even a few centuries there during a rotational assignment.

Walking down the main dirt road, she began to review her plan. Although she wasn't doing anything wrong, she wanted to be subtle; she felt as if most of her hometown knew _something_ about her origins, and had told her virtually nothing across half a millennium. Family relations were often a private matter in such a small, local place, a far cry from proper Kaldorei cities like Astranaar or Feathermoon Stronghold. Children were raised communally by an entire village and nobody really dwelled on roots. That is, unless they'd grown up missing half of them like Amandil had.

She spotted the main hall, a modest size huntress lodge overlooking the lake, and entered. The village was so small that there was no inn, and although the guards paid her no mind, a few of the locals did look up from their work to notice the visitor. Inside the wide, open air hall, she found a single, bored looking archer seated behind a desk. The blue haired woman's eyes lit up at the sight of a newcomer, and Amandil got a feeling that the woman was probably young like her and had been assigned the post because someone higher ranking didn't want it.

"Ishnu alah, my beloved sister!" the archer assigned to guarding an empty hall beamed while standing up and holding a fist to her heart.

"Ishnu dal dieb-"

"We welcome you to the Oaken Glade! Strange, I received no word of guests. What brings you here?"

The way the woman's long face focused so intently on Amandil, as if anybody passing through such a small village had an interesting story to tell, seemed a bit pitiful. Was she really that bored? "Well, I'm not here on an official trip; the nature of this visit is personal."

She was about to elaborate, but a few huntresses wearing guild tabards walked inside of the lodge. Rugged, brash and noisy as the cavalry of the night elves often were, all five women walked with a certain kind of swag normally repudiated by their people. They were sweaty as if they'd been on a long patrol, but they weren't uniformed like the official guards of the city. Without even greeting the woman behind the lonely reception counter, the huntresses walked out to the back verandah of the lodge that overlooked the lake. The sound of their loud conversation could still be heard, but by that time so could Amandil's self appointed host.

"So anyway...are you here to visit a friend or family member? Is there anything I could assist with? My name is Lilith, by the way, from Harmony," the woman said in a manner that would be considered hyper by most elves.

Amandil had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Nice to meet you, Lilith. I'm assuming that you're from a smaller village, and that name was given to it by these outlanders we signed a treaty with?"

"Why...yes, it's a small place in the same province as Maestra's Post. How did you know it's a village?"

"Well, I'm from much the same situation. My name is Amandil, and I'm from a village that had no name during the Long Vigil. Our outlander friends renamed it Serenity Grove."

For a good few seconds, Lilith smiled and nodded, rolling the name off of her tongue. "Serenity Grove, Serenity, yes...generic outlander name for a night elf village..." She stopped herself, and then started to blink rapidly. Her smile suddenly appeared fake. "Wait..."

Amandil raised a curious eyebrow. "Is anything the matter?" she asked.

Lilith continued to infer the matter before her long ears drooped. Backing away from Amandil, the similarly young night elf looked like she'd seen a ghost. "Why...what is this?" she asked, sincerely confused by...something. "Why now? At the same time that _they're_ here?" She pointed toward the verandah with her thumb, where five guildmates were still lounging around retelling probably embellished stories of their exploits.

Confusion even greater than Lilith's infected Amandil's mind. "I don't understand...what's wrong?" she asked quietly, stepping toward the obviously disturbed woman.

Glancing around them nervously, Lilith suddenly stiffened and became less casual in her demeanor. "This is so soon after they...and now...this. I don't...well, I guess the timing is random chance; it doesn't match up exactly anyhow." When she noticed the puzzled expression that Amandil was giving her, she stepping forward as well, her voice dropping into a whisper. "Not here. Not now. Meet me during daylight hours, around noon, in the glade on the other side of the lake. Act normal, don't snoop, and stay away from me in public...I know why you came."

Before Amandil could blunder and ask more questions, Lilith stepped back behind the desk and started scribbling in the guestbook. "We have one unoccupied hammock upstairs. Per new Alliance regulations, we can no longer offer empty spots for free; that will be thirty silver to cover the next three days, please." The blue haired archer then started to stare at the wall across from her countertop, frozen like a statue of Elune.

Warily, Amandil pulled out her coinpurse, paid and then signed her name. Lilith became unresponsive, stepping away to check a record book as if to demonstrate her disinterest. Taking the hint, the aspiring druidess walked up the ramp to the second floor, deciding to make herself scarce. A hundred and one questions occupied her mind, preventing her from catching any extra naps before dawn approached.


	4. Discovering

Amandil sipped in her third cup of coffee that day, struggling to keep herself awake after the moon had already set. As it was, her eyes already felt salty from the accidental nap she'd taken in her hammock. The bright sunlight only stung them even more, causing her sort of yellowish color signaling the transition from silver to amber to face into regular white eyes with yellow irises in the absence of dark.

While shifted into panther form, she'd scouted the area multiple times, trying to get a feel for the little glade she was supposed to meet her host at. Although the local guards all appeared a bit bored and unfocused, she still didn't want any prying eyes to notice where she was going. Especially not after Lilith's bizarre reaction at the huntress lodge.

So Amandil had prowled, going for a walk outside of the village without her backpack, disappearing into the woods and then shifting. Although someone paying especially close attention might notice that the panther stalking around the village was purple with emerald spots, it was actually unlikely near a night elf village; prowling cats knew not to threaten the defenders of nature, and the sound of her creeping beneath the underbrush was as unlikely to arouse suspicion as the sound of an owl hooting.

Of course, once the moon had set, the need for stealth had mostly disappeared. Since there weren't any outlanders at the Oaken Glade, the village basically shut down at day. With only her coffee to keep her company, Amandil was able to swing through drowsiness to jitteriness unobserved.

An egret landed on a jutting root across from the spot she'd tucked herself into, observing her with great curiosity. Sitting against a tree trunk and partially concealed by large toadstools nearby, she was unseen by those outside, but the egret appeared content to sit down on the dirt next to the root, watching her sip her coffee.

"You wouldn't like this," she told the bird while taking another sip. All the local grocer had been able to provide was grinds for very strong, bitter espresso that had been imported to Ashenvale from Feralas and had somehow made its way to that little podunk village.

The egret didn't appear disappointed, simply watching her inquisitively. The thin white bird was quite cute, pleasant in the sense that it didn't seem to desire anything other than company.

"So is this the part where I break down and start to engage in a one sided conversation with a cute animal?" she asked jokingly. When the egret didn't answer, she nodded her head. "Well, that's also the scene in some of the novels I've read where the heroine confesses everything to an animal and doesn't realize that the villainess is listening in. So instead, I'll talk to you about my notes from my previous lessons."

Pulling out a poster of a stylized goblin hand holding a glass of ale full of pineapples, Amandil unfolded what had become her temporary notepad during the last course she'd taken before the holiday break.

"Basically, I know three spells as it stands: I can shapeshift into a panther, I can cure rot in organic matter, and I can heal vegetable matter but not flesh. My teacher for my class on diseases claims that novices often jump right to shifting into animal forms before learning anything else, which is to be expected but..."

Noticing the odd silence, Amandil looked up to find herself alone again. The egret had already flown toward the natural ceiling formed by the canopy in an attempt to escape the conversation.

Her shoulders slumped. "You were only my friend because you wanted coffee," she chortled, unable to stay mad at a bored bird.

For a good few minutes she nursed her coffee while reviewing her notes, her mind occasionally being distracted by daydreams of the time when she'd know four spells, and then maybe even five one day. She still had a lot of time ahead of her; she wasn't a child, but since she'd been born before immortality had ended, she'd largely remained at about the same biological age as a twenty year old. Her case wasn't as dire as those night elves who'd been born five or ten thousand years ago, and who were now ageing rapidly.

Ouch...like her mother. That thought wasn't pleasant. Quick, change of subject!

"Curation of tetanus," she murmured out loud while reading off the title of a book she'd left herself a reminder to buy. Yes, that was a good, neutral topic...

"Amandil of Serenity?"

"Hey! What! Oh! Yes, hello!" Amandil stammered, embarrassed that she'd literally caught no inkling that anybody was approaching at all.

Slopping a bit of her coffee on her thumb, she placed the borrowed cup down in the dirt and rose to greet Lilith, who was approaching from behind her. The blue haired archer was wearing a clashing cloak and cowl that bore the same dark green color of the underbrush, as if she was trying to hide.

"Did anybody follow you?" the archer asked quietly.

"What...I arrived here first, I should be asking you!" Amandil replied, more amused than offended by the question. "I've been alone for more than an hour; nobody came by except a really bored bird."

"What?"

"Nothing. Anyway, would you mind if we sat down? I'm a little bit tired." Amandil pointed toward two smooth rocks she'd pushed next to each other in the glade.

"Yes, that's a good idea...maybe it's better to sit down," Lilith replied while taking a seat on one of the stones. Amandil sat down across from her, and the two shared an awkward laugh. "So...you're here."

"That's right!"

"And you're also from Serenity."

Raising an emerald eyebrow suspiciously, Amandil felt her confusion rise again. "You say 'also' as if it's a strange thing. You also implied, back at the lodge, that somebody else from my village has been here recently."

"Yes," Lilith replied, uneasy as if they were being watched.

When the archer didn't elaborate, Amandil became impatient. "Please, you agreed to meet me out here. Don't hold back now; I'm here to learn about my family history."

"I know who you are," Lilith replied quickly. "I didn't know your name, but I know who you are."

"Could you qualify...I mean, what do you mean?"

Lilith scooted her rock a bit closer. "I'm not sure where I should start. I feel like the beginning isn't as important right now."

"Then what's more important?"

"First of all, that if you're here for the reason I think you are, then you need to be very careful. There are some people who would...be unfriendly if they knew why. People from your village."

Taken aback, Amandil crooked her head to the side and wondered if the woman was some sort of a con artist or really meant what she was saying. "You're saying that some of the brave women whom I spent hundreds of years with bear I'll will toward me? Where are you coming up with this?"

Pursing her lips as if she felt afraid to say, Lilith waited for a few seconds. "Those women you saw at the lodge...they're members of a guild whose charter hasn't been approved yet. So they literally have something _to_ prove, and the brazen behavior that goes along with it. Do you know...were you friends with Gwynneth?"

A pause ensued as Amandil remembered the hazing she'd been subjected to when the commander at Serenity Grove hadn't been watching. A bitter, lemony taste stung her tongue as she remembered the biggest gossip and backstabber of the inhabitants of her small village. But Gwynneth was still one of the twenty five original women of Serenity, and Lilith was an outsider; honor bound her not to show disunity.

"I knew her well; she's definitely from my village."

"Well, the guild is hers. It's hers and they're out for blood, since their sole purpose is combat. They're currently doing a sweep of this area of the province, running through every bounty that the area sentinel captain is posting for known outlaws."

"Well, good for her; Gwynn was always quite fierce, and I'm happy to hear that she's finally found a proper calling-"

"Your dad is one of them."

A few leaves fell to the ground as the two women stared at each other, one in utter shock and the other contrite. A frog and a squirrel actually stopped long enough to engage in a mock conversation before they both hopped or scurried away, punctuating the long, awkward silence.

Eventually, Amandil found the force of will to make her lips move again.

"How do you...how do you know who my dad is?" she asked angrily.

"Well, it all started-"

"How do you know I'm looking for him?"

"That's because-"

"How in the bloody fel do you know who I am?"

"If you'd just let me-"

"And if so, then why don't you know my name?!"

Suspicious and no longer trusting the archer, Amandil grabbed the shorter woman by the collar of her cloak. Lilith flailed, unaggressive and almost pleasing, as the spoken druidess nearly lifted her off of the ground.

"I walk in here anonymously, and you just so happen to flag me down, claiming that you know who I am, why I'm here, my dad is an outlaw, one of my former neighbors will be unhappy if she knows why I'm here-"

Clearly intimidated, Lilith wiggled her legs in an attempt to keep both feet on the ground as she spilled the proverbial beans.

"Your mom was stationed here so she could have an affair with your dad whose a bad person and is also a distant relative of mine but he's still bad but Gwynn is worse and she's running a clean sweep of kill only quests for all criminals and she harasses the locals for information but she has no right to do that and you look so much like your mom and I guess we're distant cousins but Gwynn doesn't know that because nobody knows that except for me and your parents and if this guild finds out then they'll shake you down for info and if the local sentinels find out then they'll detain you for questioning and if I'm implicated in any way then I'll lose my job and I can't lose my job but I'm out of breath!"

Amandil dropped Lilith, more because her arms were getting tired than anything, but also because she was trying to sort out all of the information in her head.

"Holy Hajiri in the heavens, this is...a lot of information to take in," she said while leaning against the tree trunk.

Crumpled in a heap at her feet, Lilith panted, her previously pleasant demeanor shattered after having been womanhandled so roughly. "I'm...I'm sorry, maybe I didn't tell everything in the right order," she gasped.

Reaching down to help the smaller woman sit, Amandil knelt down across from her and examined the person who was, apparently, a distant cousin.

"Start by telling me about my relation to you."

Contrite like a scolded child, Lilith acquiesced with no protest. It was no wonder that she was so afraid of the rowdy guild members staying at the lodge. "Your dad was from Harmony; he's a cousin of my mom, which makes him like my second uncle or twice removed uncle or something like that. So you and me are distant cousins."

" _How_ do you know that?"

"Come on, look at your hair, your skin...your features are all your dad's, but your color is your mom's. Nobody else has that exact shade of purple skin with emerald hair. It took me a minute because your face isn't like hers, but I got it. And when I saw you here, after what happened...well, I knew what this was."

Blinking and trying not to let the information overwhelm her, Amandil scooted closer again. Her heart was thumping so fast that her fingertips almost felt numb. "What happened?" she asked intently, nearly grabbing Lilith's hand before she stopped herself.

Lilith opened her mouth to speak, thought twice, and then reconsidered her words. "Your mom didn't want to be here, you know. She's quite domesticated, unlike the rest of our women. Somehow a deal was worked out because we really needed extra help, and she was sent here. And...well, she didn't really understand that it wasn't safe to wander in these parts. People like my uncle would often hang out alone, away from people."

"Your uncle...my dad...is a bad guy?"

"He's made bad choices. And I guess he was just so...different, that your mom fell for him. He'd originally been stationed here with me when this settlement was founded - it was much smaller than Harmony back then. It was after we arrived that he fell in with the wrong people. And that's...I guess that's where you came from." Lilith frowned, a far off look in her eyes. "It was very dramatic. He left so your mom could give you a normal life, without him. She disagreed. Strongly. But he left, and she returned to Serenity early when they discovered she was pregnant. He's been hiding out since then."

Memories of being treated differently pricked at the back of Amandil's mind, but she shut them out. "And Gwynn? How does she fit in?"

"Random chance; pure, completely random chance," Lilith replied confidently. "She didn't start here, and she won't end here; the Oaken Glade just happened to be in the middle. She was something to prove, and she's trying to boost her guild's chances for acceptance by clearing as many bounties as possible. She'll have a hard time, because she's racist as hell and won't allow outlanders membership, but she's trying. She's clearing out some bounties that have been posted for over a millennium, and she's been jumping back and forth along the various towns and villages along the highway nearby for months."

"And we're here at the same time..."

"I'm telling you, it's chance. Nobody, but nobody, knows about your background except your parents and me. I was shocked too, but I've done nothing but ruminate in the issue over the past few hours. If you really insist on learning who he is, you'd be better off waiting-"

"For her to catch him?"

Lilith paused, chastised and defeated. "No...to kill him...no, you're correct then, you can't wait. If anything, it would have been better had you come earlier."

"That's neither here nor there, at this point. I have to find him. Please...Lilith, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I was just worried. But I need more...a name, a location, anything."

Glancing around again, Lilith waited until her paranoia subsided. "Faraldor. Do **not** speak his name out here, not even to travelers you pass. Even if this wannabe guild wasn't harassing random people like they run the place, the sentinels still have a warrant for his arrest; he's wanted for murder, and will most likely face the gallows."

"Murder!" Amandil gasped, her spirit falling and her heart hurting. "My dad killed somebody?"

"One person, yes; but for beings who live as long as we do, such warrants remain outstanding. He can't simply wait out the police search. He's not a bad person; he just made bad choices...he knew he'd have to pay for it eventually, but he didn't want that kind of a life for you." A sappy yet sad look spread across Lilith's face. "Even if he never met you, he loved you very much."

 _Whoa, feels overload, abort! Retry! Fail_! Amandil bristled at the opening of a veritable Pandora's box of emotions in front of a stranger. Even if Lilith was her long lost cousin, she still didn't really know the woman. "Yes, right, good to know. Faraldor...my dad's name is Faraldor. Where...do you know where he's hiding? He is definitely hiding somewhere, right?"

"Of course...for a very long time. But don't go yet...I'll tell you the rough area where I know he is, but wait. Come back to the lodge, stay for a few days, pretend that you were traveling and need to rest up since you have no mount. If either this guild or the authorities see you too close to that area, then you could get in trouble. I'll leave a map in your backpack...a mustard stain will mark his location."

"A mustard stain?" Amandil asked in disbelief.

But Lilith gave a very serious nod. "It's the most surreptitious way I can think of; this is a small town, and people stick their noses where they don't belong. So just act natural and I'll help you to see him. He's...he's not a bad person. And times have changed now...you're obviously an adult, so it's your choice to seek him out or not. And if you do find him, and show him you grew up alright, I'm sure he'll be delighted. Just make sure you're never being followed."

Feeling contrite herself, Amandil reached forward and clasped Lilith's hands in her own. "I don't know how I could repay you...and I'm sorry about earlier. Thank you so, so much," she said while helping her father's niece to stand.

"You can thank me by keeping him and yourself safe. And...come back and visit me, some time? I've been posted here for so long, and I'm not comfortable leaving yet. But it gets boring."

"I will; I promise. I came here to find out about my roots, and I consider you a part of that." Amandil reached foreword and gave the archer a brief hug. "Now, go. If the situation is as delicate as you claim, then we shouldn't return together."

"Definitely not. I'll go back and handle the map...it's best if we don't speak again this time. I'll figure out a solution as to how we can help him hide from this guild...I'm worried, but we have to try. He's survived this long living alone on the lam."

"I won't let anything happen to him; not now," the druidess replied as she watched the archer disappear through the underbrush. Once she woman had left the glade, Amandil sat down again, feeling the full brunt of her exhaustion. For another good hour she fought off sleep, knowing she'd have a full night and day to rest before she'd make her stealthy exit from the town.

"I'm coming to see you, dad," she whispered as she tried to sort all the questions floating through her mind.


	5. Searching

Within half an hour of her departure from the village, Amandil had noticed the guild members following her.

The highway leading north toward Felwood was long and sparsely populated, only a few outposts and rural family fortresses housing single clans dotting the landscape. People rarely wandered out of such places, and consequently she didn't interact with anybody. As she walked on foot, and remained on foot, she easily spied the five women trailing her, their nightsabres creeping along as they pretended to be out for a stroll. A mere half hour stroll.

Finally irritated enough by the behavior, Amandil, stopped walking and pretended to sit down for a break. Even if Lilith was intimidated by these people, she appeared to be easily intimidated in general. Amandil, on the other hand, wouldn't simply roll over and allow herself to be shaken down for information or simply because a few cavalrywomen needed to earn the chips on their shoulders. Amandil had been enlisted as cavalry, and she was enrolled in a highly sought after course to respec as an entirely different class. She had nothing to prove and knew she wasn't some peon.

As she fiddled with her staff, the guild members down the road slowed nearly to a halt. For one minute, two minutes, five minutes, they waited for her to start walking again so they could continue pretending not to follow her. When she refused to budge, they approached, acting as if they bore no interest in the novice sitting in the grass. Only when they'd passed right in front of her did they suddenly turn, all of them pulling their nightsabres to stare her down in an obvious attempt to both impress and scare.

"Good evening, sister," the leader of the group said in a nasally voice. The woman had impressive silver hair but also a strange birth defect in her nose that caused one of her nostrils to wheeze every time she inhaled.

The others formed a half circle around Amandil, never dismounting from their sabres as the sat up straight to proudly show off their tabards that bore the ancient elven runes for 'war.' "Evening," Amandil replied, doing her best to appear unimpressed.

An angry smile spread across the silver haired leader's lips when they failed to garner the reaction they'd wanted. "You're an awful long way from Moonglade," the woman said, obviously searching for information.

Refusing to divulge details that weren't their right to know, Amandil kept her sentences as general as possible. "It would appear so," she replied flatly while taking a sip from her waterskin and not offering any to them.

Two of the guild members whispered to each other and then laughed, and Amandil did her best to make a show of not caring. The ringleader, who was likely filling in for Gwynneth, tried to push further. "Perhaps we should escort you to your location; this is dangerous territory, and full of quite a few wanted criminals hiding from civilization."

"No thank you."

Even two of the chatting guild members looked offended by the answer, and their stifled laughter came off as forced. Their attempts to make a strong impression via arrogance were failing and they knew it. The silver haired ringleader in particular seemed incensed.

"Sister, it's quite dangerous out here, especially for an initiate restoration druid."

Staring into the grass as if she wasn't even listening, Amandil slouched as she sat and easily gave the impression that she didn't intend to move. Especially if they didn't realize she was feral, which would grant her a means of moving away from them undetected. "Thank you for your concern," she droned.

Done with pleasantries, the ringleader finally frowned. "I'm the quartermistress of WAR; we're here to rid the land of all sorts of vile criminals as well as intruders. I'm going to need to ask you about the whereabouts of several known outlaws last sighted in this-"

"I'm not legally obligated to answer you."

All five of the sabre riders looked shocked. The silverhead, apparently the guild's quartermistress, shed her outer civility. "Excuse me?" she asked in an almost passive aggressive tone.

 _Thank the goddess that Gwynneth isn't here to identify me_ , Amandil thought to herself. "You're free to ask anybody any question; but I'm under no legal obligation to answer any of them." She looked the quartermistress right in the eye, neither passivity nor aggression tainting her unflinching gaze.

For a few seconds, angry silver eyes flicked from Amandil's blank expression to the staff and back again. Neutralized and not willing to answer for assaulting whom she had assumed to be a healer, the quartermistress titled her head back in the direction of the Oaken Glade, a silent order for the others to return. "We've wasted enough time on _this one_ ," the lead rider muttered acrimoniously as they all rode back.

A few more rounds of laughter could be heard before the five riders finally disappeared from Amandil's vision. Waiting until they were gone, she pulled out her map and studied the location of the mustard stain one last time. Far away from even any local path or hamlet, the spot appeared to be on a plateau, hidden among what appeared to be labeled as bramble patches. A large tangle of trees nearby almost resembled the dwellings of the quilboar to the south, a rather foreboding image. She couldn't go back, though...she'd come too far, and she'd need to return to Moonglade soon; after a few days with only a brief note promising to come back, she'd left her mother with far too little for the woman's nerves to be calmed.

Hiding in the bushes briefly, Amandil tapped into her mana pool once more and shapeshifted, transforming herself into the sleek panther once again. Her true form hidden, she started to run with a jumping start, hanging away from the main road and allowing her sense of direction to carry her toward the spot that had been marked on her map.

Alone and in her element, the druidess pondered her situation. If she really was going to meet her father, Faraldor, then a major chapter in her life was nearly closed. A question mark that had hung over her head would be dispelled.

Her background had been an embarrassment in her younger years. The main reason for that was her birth date: she'd been born outside of the main wars of her people that had resulted in the men waking up from the Emerald Dream. In cities, there was often a minority male population, ones that either weren't druids (very few) or were carrying out tasks assigned by the Cenarion Circle. Children were born all the time due to the interaction, but that was only in a few select locations. For night elves, an essentially wild people living in forests, the overwhelming majority of the population dwelled in small villages and groves of only a few dozen people.

Therein laid her problem: traditional settlements had no men. Their populations were already so low that there was little reason even for night elves from other villages to visit. The men went to the Dream, the women undertook the Long Vigil, and that was how their then immortal lives played out. Every few millennia a crisis would occur such as the wars by the satyr or silithids, and the men would temporarily wake up, contribute to the fight and then spend short periods of time visiting their families before they returned to their barrow dens. During those times, children were conceived.

Serenity Grove as one such place: everybody who hadn't been born before the Sundering was then born just after the Satyr War, the exile of the Higborne or the War of the Shifting Sands. Only Amandil had been born outside of one of those windows, and thus grew up as the only child in their village at the time.

For hours she ran through that forest in the far north of Ashenvale, her mind troubled as she revisited old wounds. Why? Why had she grown up without other people her age to play with? Why had she been born at such a peculiar time? And why wouldn't anybody ever talk about it, ever?

All her life, she'd felt like a bastard. Marriage wasn't common among their kind during immortality, but it wasn't about that: it was about not knowing. The other young women in the grove all had the occasional stories to tell about their fathers; even if they never met them, they still knew about them from their mothers. All of them had been sired by druids of varying types, and speculating about how they'd react the next war when they got to meet their menfolk was a recurring topic of discussion. And every time, Amandil hadn't been able to participate in such discussions. She had no idea who her father was, and her mother blatantly changed the topic the few times she brought up the matter.

Blinking the thoughts away, she leapt over a few hedges and landed on a very low hanging branch that appeared to drag along the ground. After what must have been nearly half the night, she'd wound an agonizing serpentine trail through the bramble forest. Very little ground had been gained due to the difficulty of the steep and thorny terrain, and there was likely still a ways to go.

Trying to catch her breath, Amandil surveyed her surroundings while still in panther form. She was very close to the border between Ashenvale and Felwood, and the contrast showed. Many of the purple and green leaves in the canopy began to turn orange or even black, and the vines that wrapped around everything became thornier. The very ground itself felt corrupt, as if a measure of the environmental disease in Felwood had expanded outward. Perturbed by the feeling of degradation, she leapt upward into the boughs of the nearest tree, nearly slipping off due to her poor perception.

From her new vantage point, she could see the difference. Off in the distance, the canopy became even darker still when Felwood itself began, and the transition made her current position seem better in comparison. That still left the last leg of her journey, however, since she had to find a way to wrap around to the southwest retreat further into Ashenvale but at a higher altitude. Sifting through her mental image of the map, she tried to think of ways to reach the destination. So engrossed was she that she didn't notice the two green spotlights shining on her from another branch.


	6. Denying

Amandil scanned the area from the boughs of one of the shorter trees in the area. The transition back toward Ashenvale progressively became less grim, and she was grateful that she wouldn't actually have to venture all the way into Felwood. Perched on that branch as it was, she was given pause by just how much she'd have to loop back around; even after having spent six centuries patrolling the forest for invaders, there were some parts that were impenetrable and convoluted even to her.

Any and all fel corruption disappeared the further into Ashenvale that she looked. The colors brightened and even the amount of glowing corruption decreased, providing a much clearer image of nature.

Except for the two annoying spotlights of fel green. Where was that glow coming from?

Oblivious at first, Amandil's more instinctual mind eventually begin to tingle with apprehension. Her natural reaction was to hold still, perhaps crouching even lower down to the branch though she didn't quite feel if she was doing that or not. Unfortunately, her hackles also raised, revealing to her uninvited guest that she was aware of his presence and not necessarily receptive toward it. Slowly but surely, her senses told her of a large figure next to her in the tree, unmoving and patient as it had waited for her to see him.

Frozen and unsure of what to do, Amandil tried to plot a course of action but failed to think of anything other than jumping out of the tree. That would leave her vulnerable, however, since she couldn't even see her uninvited guest clearly from the corner of her eye. Tilting her head ever so slightly, her felinoid eyes widened as she started to notice just who'd been sitting next to her the entire time she'd been there...

...she'd strayed far too close to Felwood when searching for a winding path to reach the plateau.

Sickly green beams of light shined at her, like the most horrible of the Burning Legion's metal contraptions sweeping the area with a searchlight. Adding to the demonic glow was a series of unholy runes glowing with the power of pure evil, lighting up once bluish skin that had long since turned grey from the self destructive power of the macabre and forbidden. Though she felt too nervous to turn her entire head, which would alert her interlocutor to her awareness, she could just barely catch the outline of two blades shaped like half circles.

The two of them held their positions, pretending not to be interested in one another as they balanced on that tree branch. Reaching into the back of her six hundred year old mind, Amandil tried to find a solution to what was most assuredly a problem.

She'd served as light cavalry for so many centuries...even if she was a novice in the Cenarion Circle, she'd served under the Sentinels for a long enough time. She knew all about maneuvers, tactics, flanking and sundering enemy ranks. She was a warrior of the night, a huntress of the wicked, an experienced and seasoned fighter. But she was also uncoordinated when shapeshifted into the form of a panther, her skills mostly unpracticed. And she couldn't heal herself if hurt; she could only heal vegetables.

This...this was a daunting task. Even the crackling energy of the tattooed runes and the partially obstructed breathing reminded her of how dire her situation was. This wasn't simply a bandit along the way, or an imp she'd stumbled upon when dawdling near the border: this was a demon hunter. The most foul, vile of all heretics her society had known. No wonder there were so many bounties posted in that area - she was right next to the training ground of the Burning Legion's minions.

If this was a training ground for them...then it was for her, too. Realization of her opportunity dawned on her: this was her next test. She'd passed the test of slaying and then ritually thanking her spirit animal, and she'd even tamed a miniature bog beast after curing a plant infection in the vegetative being's brain. Was this her test of combat - the reason why Elune had led her there? At the least convenient time, when she was the least suspecting? It would make sense...for that would truly be an achievement.

Tensing up and steeling her nerve, Amandil swiveled around on her end of the branch, facing down the monster she'd inadvertently climbed up next to. The man was crouching low as he sat, the weight of his war glaives not impeding his balance in the least. Where antlers normally stood as honorable gifts of nature for the older men of their kind who'd helped to safeguard the wilds, this creature had horns. Though he didn't have hooves, the devilish runes also scrawled on his baggy pants were symbol enough that he'd transformed so much that she would not even consider such an atrocity to be a night elf any longer. Every inch of the man spoke of untold blasphemy againt the goddess.

The man held firm, the rag covering his disgusting, empty eye sockets buring with green light that failed to even illuminate his face, distorting the light around him. Amandil bared her fangs, refusing to back down or allow herself to fall victim to a being so unspeakable.

"Breathe," the demon hunter said, his voice carrying a strange, warped sound as if his throat had started to fall to fel mutation before his feet had.

 _No, I will not fall for your tricks_ , she thought angrily, her sense of righteous fury bubbling up both in reaction to her holy test and the monster's attempt to fool her. She'd known that many of the demons sent by the Legion employed deception and falsehood in order to lull their opponents into a false sense of security. She as not going to allow herself to become a part of that statistic.

She growled, the sound deep and guttural even t her own throat. Power rose up through her, and confidence she hadn't felt before drove her. She would pass this test; she'd mastered melee combat while riding a mount, and she'd master it while shifted into the form of a big cat as well.

The demon hunter barely moved. " _Breathe_ ," he repeated, his tone forceful, as if he actually expected her to obey.

No. She was not his to command or to trick. The language of Elune was not his to insult with his warped voice. This was both a test and an honor; she couldn't let herself fail.

Launching her body toward the monster, she unsheathed her claws, arms splayed open to dig in and grab ahold of the corrupted flesh. In midair she opened her mouth, read to bite down on whatever - wait a minute, why was he stabbing the innocent tree with one of his weapons?

"Hhuuuurrrrrrkkk," she roared, flailing around as the demon hunter's suddenly free hand wrapped around her throat.

Absolute terror welled up inside of her as she realized that her hind feet were no longer planted on the branch. Dangling in the air, her heart thumped against her chest cavity as she struggled, meowing as she desperately tried to reach out for anything to grab ahold of. In theory, she should have been able to rend the skin of his forearm with her claws; in practice, a proper swipe when she was asphyxiating, panicking and only able to see the canopy was much easier said than done. Especially when she was still uncoordinated when moving around in the very differently shaped cat body; had she remained in elven form, she might even have had a better chance of tackling him.

The demon hunter loosened his grip, but continued holding her over the ground far below. His shoulder never seemed to tire, probably from heaving around those heavy glaives all the time, and his horrendous glowing eye sockets fixated on her. Without eyes, his gaze was impossible to discern, but she could tell that he was examining her pelt rather than her feline face.

" _ **Breathe**_ ," he ordered her again, pulling her closer to inspect her better. It was as if he didn't fear her wrath, a fact which hurt even more then the embarrassment of having been beaten without any violence.

Panicked over her continued dangling above the ground, Amandil reached dow into her mana pool and yanked. For the first time in over a year, the felt a bit of pain when she shapeshifted, possibly due to the fact that she shifted too quickly. Out of desperation, she forced herself back into elven form as fast as possible, grabbing on to the demon hunter's wrist. Her nerves were shot, and she was so nervous that she couldn't muster up her usual strength to simply hit him at his elbow joint.

But she wouldn't need to.

"Ahh!" she yelped as the man gasped and let go of her, obviously quite shocked by her transformation.

As a former huntress, Amandil was already agile enough to fall great heights and land on her feet. In her rush to battle, however, she hadn't noticed the uneven incline of the leaf covered forest floor below, and she slipped and tumbled down an embankment. Panic rose up in her again as she realized that her body was rolling straight toward a patch of bramble bushes...

...no...the brambles were rolling toward her.

In a flash, she brought up her staff from her baldric, meeting the blow of the corrupted treant before it could scratch her with its thorny fingers. She wasn't particularly skilled with a staff - not like with a moon glaive of old or her confiscated claw gauntlets - but she knew enough. More of the bramble bushes rose around her, obviously triggered by the presence of an uncorrupted entity, and a few more lurched toward her just as she swung her staff hard enough against the first one to split its head open. It remained in a standing position, but the fel glow in its eyes faded as it died on its roots, leaving her to dance around and parry the strikes of the others.

She didn't bother trying to shift; a big cat's claws would only shear the bark from the treants rather than actually wounding them inside. This would require either blunt force trauma, or a blade with enough length to it to actually sever wooden limbs or heads.

War glaives were long enough for the latter.

Landing so lightly that his weight didn't even seem to cause an impact in the ground, the demon hunter silently leapt from atop the tree, decapitating two treants as he silently completed his descent. The momentary distraction allowed Amandil to slam her staff upside the last corrupted treant, knocking it onto its side where the demon hunter spun in a circle and cut it to pieces. In the heat of battle, her mind was still in combat, and she swung her staff toward the back of the demon hunter's neck.

"Eep!" she squeaked as he brought the tip of one of his war glaives half an inch from her nose. She froze and fell back, crouching into a battle stance even as he planted both of his blades in the ground and held out his empty hands.

Amandil backed up, expecting him to immolate them both in some sort of suicide move at any moment. She bared her fangs, confused by the demon hunter's almost contrite expression.

"Stay back, heretic!" she hissed at him, finally holding her ground and giving him pause.

The glow of his eyes and runes darkened, as if less active when he wasn't engaged in combat. "Calm down," he stated bluntly, only infesting her even more.

"And who are you to give orders to me? To anyone, you, who has throw away the blessing of nature bestowed upon our people with your pact with devils?"

As if sincerely hurt, the demon hunter's mouth pulled into a frown. He stopped his approach, staring intently at her in a way that made her uneasy. Ever so slightly, the older man tilted his chin down by a degree that she almost didn't notice, as if he felt as embarrassed at winning as she did at losing.

"You have no idea...of course you wouldn't," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

His bizarre ruse confounding her to no end, she inched closer to him, her staff still held up defensively. In a duel like this, she wasn't sure if she could win; in elven for, she preferred to fight with a glaive, and in panther form she was still a beginner. But she wouldn't so easily back down, not tonight...

...his nose.

A few more leaves fell to the ground as Amandil froze at the bottom of the embankment, her fingers trembling. A small, quiet voice whispered nonsense in the back of her mind, telling her ridiculous things that she didn't want to hear as she looked at...

...his ears.

Deja vu danced around in her mind as she wondered if some sort of a spell had been cast on her, forcing her to think strange thoughts and stare at his...

...chin.

A very familiar angle of the line from jaw to chin metaphorically pierced her mind like a wedge driven through wood, splitting her brain open as her head started to shake in denial.

"No...no! **No**! No, no, no! You're lying, YOU'RE LYING!" she shouted, leaning heavily on her staff as she struggled to remain standing on buckling knees.

The monster held his hand out toward her, but didn't approach. "I've said nothing," he said in a voice that was soft despite its warped nature.

Amandil found herself reaching for his hand and then pulling back, cursing herself inside as she found herself trying to close the gap between them. Every ounce of her hated the monstrosity before her, the betrayal of all their people believed in, colored in the runes of demonic corruption. And those two green sources of light, both of them kind yet full of regret, controlling her, forcing her to walk-

"I'm sorry...for...who I am," he whispered, his voice lacking certainty as she found arms hugging him as she fell to her knees, the pain of so many centuries of not knowing crashing onto her shoulders.

Still shaking her head, she leaned her head on his shoulder when he hugged her back, covering her face with her hands as she tried and failed to answer questions about her own nature, about this blasphemy in front of her, about what she must truly be like...so much swirling around in her mind, all while she clung to him despite wishing she'd never known. Had he simply been some sort of bandit outlaw, it would have all been easier to process.

She let herself sit on her knees, still hiding her face from the world even as she leaned in to the hug she'd missed all her life. "I'm sorry," Faraldor repeated as he rocked her like she was still a child.


	7. Understanding

They sat in the top of the hill, overlooking the destroyed, corrupted treants. Her hair had stood on end at first, but her father insisted that any demons or fel corrupted beings wouldn't attack him, and that if they wanted to attack her, he'd sense them coming. He was virtually invisible to the atrocities summoned by the Burning Legion unless he struck first.

Once she'd suppressed her anxiety attack, she'd been able to sit next to him in the leaves, her eyes closed as she just tried to process the admittedly small piece of information. He didn't interrupt her, sitting next to her silently as she mentally tumbled through the stages of denial, acceptance and everything in between. Doubt crept into her mind, begging the question if she herself was corrupt from birth and simply didn't know it yet, and of how society would view her if she was to forever be known as a heretic's offspring.

She didn't even bother asking him if he was sure, or quizzing him about her mother to see if he was lying. She knew the truth when she saw her face in his, as much as he did from the moment he'd noticed that exact shade of emerald hair.

"How did you find me?"

Slowly, she opened her eyes to look at him, finding that he was still staring straight ahead. His hair was blue like Lilith's, but highlighted by grey starting at the roots. His horns weren't that long - not like those of the Betrayer, from what she'd read - but were obvious enough to denote him as...very different, to say the least.

When she remembered that he was waiting for an answer, she felt rude. "Lilith told me...she's still at the Oaken Glade."

His eyebrow seemed to raise from beneath the bandages where his eyes had once been. "Where is that?" he asked.

"Sorry...I mean, the Cypress Pallisades. They changed the name a while back."

Faraldor hummed as he thought to himself. "I haven't seen my niece in a century...not since the last huntress patrol swept through here."

Even if she'd known him only for a few minutes, the big question still begged Amandil to ask it. "What did you do?"

Not an ounce of suspicion radiated from him. As much of a shock as their meeting was to her, he seemed to offer his full trust already, as if he'd always been there in her life. "I killed another man, not too long before I met your mother," he replied, any remorse his voice had once held suddenly gone. "You must believe me when I say that it was necessary."

"How was it necessary?" Amandil asked, wanting so badly to believe him but not comprehending how this heret- her father could possibly justify murder.

Taking a deep breath, he began to retell what she had expected to be a much longer take than it was.

"A long time ago, I was a barrow den guard...one of the few men in our society who weren't druids. Since I wasn't sleeping in the Emerald Dream, I was quite useful as a defender who could be moved around easily. Like a pawn. But I was also unwanted for the most part, since women and men were really supposed to live separate lives back then. So I was sent to a few different places...first to where your cousin is now, but later on I was moved again.

"I began to notice something wrong in one of the rooms of the den...there was noise. As if the druid inside was waking up. I'd go check as was my job, and I found nothing for decades. Eventually I realized that he'd been corrupted, and that he was planning to destroy the entire den with the druids in it, across the long term...the Burning Legion is very patient. I tried to warn our commander, but he threatened to have me arrested for slander since I couldn't prove it. I tried to find ways to prevent the corruption from spreading...that's when I happened upon another one of my kind."

"A demon hunter?" she asked.

"Yes...not near here, much further away but still not far from Felwood. I wasn't even supposed to be that far from the den, but very little ever really happened around such places. I hadn't thought of it before, but...when I saw him, he was dying. He'd been attacked by furbolgs, and was too hurt to fight; so I asked him. I asked him, is it true that their class was understood? That they only intended to fight fel fire with fel fire? And so he gave me his glaives before he died, as well as his old grimoire...he didn't have time to teach me, but I learned on my own, albeit slowly. I thought I was skilled enough, maybe half a century later, when the corruption had possessed an entire room of the den, unseen by all and only noticeable if one spent enough time patrolling the den at all hours. Like me, and only me.

"But I hadn't been ready. I thought I was, but I was wrong. I entered his room, and tried to burn the corruption out of him, and it was too intense for me to control. I lost my eyes - as a demon hunter was supposed to anyway - and these runes were burned onto my flesh, marking me, though the horns didn't grow until later. My entire body was wounded, and the corrupted druid died in the fel fire...that **WAS** the proof. That was the evidence. Had he not been corrupted, he would have been wounded but alive. The demonic possession in his soul, that he'd willingly accepted, burned him to the very core.

"But nobody believed me. I'd been trying to tell them for years, but they accused me of being mad, that the druid in question had been a student of Staghelm himself, that I was the one who'd fallen to corruption and gone crazy. They dragged my good name through the mud, put up wanted posters for me that looked more like some satyr or dreadlord, and forced my family back at my ancestral village to publicly repudiate my character. Even Lilith went into hiding, since her commanding officer in this province was sympathetic toward her personally. They sent her to work at some lodge in the Pallisades instead of on patrolling the forests, essentially protecting her from the outside world. She snuck out and visited me during the daylight hours a few times, but otherwise...I've been hiding here. In this place.

"For a demon hunter wanted for murdering a noble druid in his sleep, there is no clemency. I will always be a wanted man, until I die out here. Only Lilith's visits to her crazy old uncle in the woods once a decade kept me sane...until now."

Both daughter and father fell silent, a sort of depressed silence wafting between them for a few minutes. Not for one split second did she doubt his story. She didn't know why; by all measures, he was a monster that society would tell her she should feel ashamed of. But just like she knew when a rainstorm was approaching or a wrestling match with the other women in training would end in her favor, she knew that she could believe what her father was saying. Even if he was legally a traitor, even if he was an outlaw, even if he'd made a literal pact with devils for the sake of fighting other devils, she believed him. But his situation caused her heart to sink.

Her cousin visited him once a decade...and he'd obviously been living on the lam for a very long time. Alone, in such a decrepit place, his life must have been even lonelier than guarding a barrow den had been for him.

Aware of how exposed they were, theoretically at least, she realized that there was a place where they could possibly be safer, and where she could also learn more about the man than merely what he said about himself.

"Lilith told me you have a hideout nearby...I was going to see you there. I've been trying to find you. All my life-" She cut herself off. Although she trusted him fully even after mere minutes, the reality was that he didn't know her or her temperament, and she didn't want to show weakness so early. "I mean. I've always been curious, and I came here intending to visit you."

Though he didn't smile, he hummed positively, and he obviously knew what she meant. "My treehouse isn't far from here...I'd be honored to have my only child visit me," he replied slowly, looking rather humbled as if he half expected her to just stand up and walk away after his story.

Without another word, she stood and shifted back into panther form, her robes, backpack and staff morphing into her fur due to the natural magic. The partially corrupted leaves around her paws glowed and became healed, and the runes on her father's weapons crackled as if perturbed by the presence of their opposite so close by. He laid it no mind, and held both blades in his hands, having no baldric or sheathe to keep them in.

"Keep your wits about you, and follow me exactly," he said, and this time she found it much easier to accept an order from him.

He leapt from the hill, sailing downward until he landed among the brambles without incident. Taking a deep breath, she followed, halfway expecting them to come to life and attack her. Thankfully, they didn't, and the confusing path he led her on left the two of them undisturbed as they wound their way toward the place she remembered seeing on her map.

Follow him exactly...most night elves told that to visitors, since the small groves and glades that most of them inhabited were often hidden from plain sight and difficult to locate without help from a native. Some were booby trapped, especially if there were harpies, centaur or quilboar nearby. In her father's case, however, there weren't traps so much as there was just very difficult terrain. Beyond her view in that bleaker part of the forest, she wondered if there were horrors waiting other than corrupted treants. Truly, he was a very different man from what she'd expected; never would she have imagined herself as being a descendant of someone who walked among demons.

Prior to stumbling upon his hidden watch post, she'd actually been closer than she'd thought; although the path was convoluted, it didn't lead that far away, and soon enough they'd ended up on a plateau where a certain measure of the canopy was actually below them. That plateau itself was still heavily wooded by both corrupted and pure trees and shrubs, as if the balance battled fel corruption right there. Surrounded by another glade with still water and cypress trees was a typical Kaldorei treehouse growing out of a depression in the soil. The back of it faced Felwood and led to a sheer drop into a lower part of the plateau where the water ran off; the front faced Ashenvale, and its endless hills of trees. The contrast couldn't have been sharper.

He slowed down as they neared the treehouse, and she shifted back to her normal elven form. Her lungs were a bit raw, and she wondered how her father, with greying hair, was able to outrun her even when she was in panther form. He set his dual glaives down, unlocked the rather thick door and ushered her inside before bringing his glaives in with them. The door shut with a rather heavy thud, and he locked it casually as if the security didn't seem odd or paranoid to him. Most night elves merely kept cloth tarps over the entryways of their homes; the balance of nature would dissuade passing predators from attacking their settlements, even the creepier ones like giant spiders.

Once inside, she set her backpack down, noticing the drab interior of her father's isolated dwelling. The furniture was in tact since it was naturally grown, but very rudimentary; he had a simple table on the bottom floor and no bookshelf, and the only reading material he owned appeared to be the old grimoire that he'd told her about as well as a stack of old newsletters (actual news _papers_ were a recent import from the outlanders) that were dated to eight years prior, likely a gift from Lilith's last visit. Goddess, her father spent all of his time here alone...during the Long Vigil, life had been monotonous as the womenfolk all patrolled the forests endlessly. How boring was it for her poor father out there with nobody?

"Come along," he told her as he started to walk up the ramp leading to the second floor. Strangely enough, his ramp was inside the house rather than winding around the tree's trunk like most night elven treehouses. "The second floor has a chair."

"I'm coming, let me just set my staff so it doesn't fall," she called after him. In truth, she'd wanted to snoop around for a bit - even a few seconds could reveal-

"By the night," she whispered to herself, feeling a bit of a tightening in her chest. On his table, next to dried fruit he'd harvested from the Ashenvale side of the border, was an old sketch pad mostly full of pictures of her mother. The thought of her introverted, domesticated mother having a romantic aspect to her life almost caused Amandil to feel a bit emo, but she bit down on it so as not to arouse her father's suspicions.

Upstairs, her father's living space appeared even more pitiful. He had two windows, one facing each of the two regions in front and in the back, and sure enough, a chair. He'd seated himself on a pile of old blankets on the floor, right in front of a closer cracked open just barely enough for her to see a dozen pairs of the same exact baggy pants. His home almost seemed like the kind of place where fun went to die.

Since he was obviously ceding the chair to her, she sat down and looked around as he remained cross legged on what appeared to be his bedroll. Here she was, knowing a little bit more about the man she'd pondered over for so long, but not that much. She felt sad for him, seeing where he lived; his materials needs were all taken care of, but it couldn't possible be a happy place. When he seemed content to remain quiet until she felt like talking, she tried to dig deeper into her past. If she'd come all that way, she'd at least stay for more than a day, and she wanted to get answers to the big questions before anything else.

"D... _dad_ ," she said for the first time in her entire life, not knowing whether to laugh or cry upon pronouncing it. "We have time, right?"

Although he was patient enough to wait for her to start, he had an answer ready. "My door is always open for you...just make sure not to attract too much attention when you pass through the region," he replied. "I've noticed an increase in patrols over the past year, including by irregular, non enlisted soldiers."

Yes, the guild. "You saw those people?" she asked incredulously.

He nodded. "I've been hiding here since before you were even born...just as the sentinels have been learning every path, I've been learning every hiding spot. I see all who pass through...I even saw you over an hour before you reached my perch."

"Well, I don't think that they'll find you...they aren't as impressive as they think they are. But if we have the time, then I have to ask: how did you meet mom? You told me how you became an outlaw, but I don't know what came after that."

As seemed to be his habit, he hummed as he thought about it, his stubbly face usually blank and unreadable. "Your mom is a...very special person," he sighed wistfully, the distortion in his voice diminishing when he was indoors for reasons unknown to her. "We only spent a few years together. Those were the best years of my life."

Fighting off the urge to coo, Amandil maintained her composure, still cautious when he didn't know her that well yet. "But you were already a wanted man by then...I know she'd been on rotation at the Oaken Glade, but how could you possibly have met her?"

"Well, I was already in the area since I knew that your cousin was here. She's really the only person I had all these years; she was my only connection to the world. I spent a good two centuries or so alone before your mom came, just receiving Lilith every decade and busying myself in work maintaining this place. I'm no druid, so I can't grow furniture or other amenities in my own; I spend almost as much time doing manual labor as the outlanders do just to maintain ths place. That was my life.

"But Vindra..." he murmured, his voice softening when he said the name in a way that made Amandil brow furrow in a mushy way. "She was so different. You know that our women aren't soft, not like the women of the Queldorei; I can see that roughness even in you. I've passed myself on to you perhaps more than she has." For a few seconds he paused as if remembering times he'd shared with her mother before continuing.

"I found her while going for a run one day, in order to stave off my boredom. She'd strayed from the village and was going for a walk, apparently to pick herbs. She had no idea how dangerous this region is, and she was...she was singing. She had a voice like an angel, and it had been so hard since I'd heard anybody singing, much less a woman who wasn't a huntress singing off key about blood and guts...I'd never seen anything like it. She was so different, almost soft, that I felt as if it was an illusion for a trickster at first. But when she made the mistake of picking an herb that was actually the eyelash of a corrupted ancient, I saw that it wasn't a front; she really was the only night elf woman I've ever seen who didn't know how to fight.

"I didn't think...I just jumped down and killed the ancient, and then realized that I'd revealed myself to an outsider. She knew what I am from the moment she saw me, yet she didn't run or report me. For her, for someone so home bound, I was the one who was different. I was an outsider, perhaps dangerous in her eyes. And...well...all you need to know is that she stayed with me, for a time. Right here in this house. Lilith knew, and only Lilith, at first.

"Eventually, the questions started. Vindra would return to the village to keep up the front, and she told me of how it was becoming difficult for her to visit. Sometimes I wouldn't see her for months at a time as we continued our affair, and Lilith came in her stead occasionally. We both knew we couldn't continue like that forever...we tried for months, and then years, and eventually you were conceived.

"I panicked...I was afraid. It was the most joyous day of my life when I heard the news, and also the scariest. The life I'd helped to bring into the world would be ostracized because of me, or even worse, I feared that you'd be at risk of infanticide; our people have no shortage of fundamentalists. To be the bastard child of a promiscuous mother, as the village was likely to assume about her, was better than you being known as a heretic's daughter. And so I sent her away...I told her how much I loved her, but that we had to put your life before ours. That's the responsibility of a parent: to provide a better life for the children than we had for ourselves.

"I know the life we gave you probably wasn't easy...even in a matriarchal society, where most of the men are asleep anyway, people still talk about lineage. Lilith told me your mom promised her, on the day that she returned to your village, that she'd speak to nobody of what had transpired; that she'd claim she'd had a drunken tryst with a drifter, and that she was your only family member. If the goddess willed us to one day be together again, then so be it, but we couldn't risk ruining your future because of my mistakes."

Faraldor stopped talking after that. His voice hadn't cracked and his face was controlled, but Amandil noticed a certain tension in her father's shoulders that spoke of ages of guilt and loneliness spent there. She wondered how many times he'd laid awake at night, imagining what she must look like and what her mother was doing at the same moment. She wondered if he knew that she'd imagined the same things about him so often, even before she had any idea who he was.

When he tilted his head up to meet hers, his lips were a bit tighter. In one of the more melancholy moments of her life, she almost sensed vulnerability radiating from him despite his prowess, despite his experience, despite the strength she could see in that strong jaw covered in stubble that was almost sharp.

"Was I wrong...for the choices I made?" he asked, his voice almost wavering in a way that made her heart hurt.

Anxiety welled up inside of her as she fought to answer and to stay quiet. Every second that ticked by without her speaking felt like she was stabbing her father in his soul by leaving him to fear that her answer would be affirmative. But she was too afraid that her own voice would waver, that she'd end up sniffling. In the end, she ignored her own fears and spoke.

"No, dad," she nearly gasped out. "Not from the beginning to the end. I don't..." She cleared her throat before continuing. "I don't think you've done anything wrong at all. You're not bad...you're misunderstood. Even by me, when I first found you."

Nodding for a few seconds, he almost seemed self conscious about the fact that he hadn't been in her life. "Thank you...Amandil," he replied, waiting a few more seconds as the two of them calmed down. "Do you plan on staying long? I'm sure you still have a life to return to at the village."

She laughed at how easily he'd switched to a lighter topic, and a great deal of the tension left her chest. "Actually, we live in Moonglade now, for my training. In fact, I have a hearthstone that helps me return there fast; they give one to each novice when they're formally accepted for training. Returning won't be hard...mom will be worried, but I have a few days before classes restart. She'll understand. I...I'd like to stay here as long as I can. Then...when I go back...I'll tell mom. I'm grown up now; I'm free to come and go as I please, as long as I can sneak out. I'll visit as often as I can...if you think it's safe."

Pausing as if he'd been hoping for her to say more - perhaps about her mother - he hummed again, smiling for the first time. "Then let's make the most of your next few days here," he replied.


	8. Convincing

The days went by far too quickly. As dreary as the location was, the time that Amandil was able to spend with her long lost father was invaluable to her. From the sparring matches where he humored her more rushed strikes to the dexterity training he provided for her even when she was shifted into panther form, the two of them enjoyed every minute they spent together to the fullest. Even her skills seemed to blossom under his tutelage; he wasn't a druid and didn't know what it was like to shapeshift (he never allowed himself to step all the way over to the dark side and metamorphosize into a demonic form). However, he understood biomechanics well, and via his coaching she was able to gain more control over her feline body when shifted than she'd been during weeks of practice on the obstacle course back on the outskirts of Nighthaven.

They'd gotten to know each other a lot better as well. Faraldor had opened up a out Harmony and about his own childhood, and how it was quite different from hers. Harmony was inhabited by four times as many people as Serenity, which was a small village even by night elven standards. His hometown had over a hundred people in it - that was, when he'd still lived there. He had no idea what it was like in the present day, and neither did Lilith since she never traveled. All the same, there were many similarities in addition to differences. The more they talked, the more she realized that she truly was her father's daughter: her personality was partially from her childhood but a great deal of it also seemed to have been inherited from him. She loved her mother dearly, but her outlook on life was fundamentally different; that was, in part, why he hadn't been surprised when Amandil had showed up in his woods looking for him. He'd known that if she truly was a piece of him all grown up, then it would only be a matter of time before she tried to seek out her own past. Until then, she simply hadn't been able to because nobody really traveled without permission during the Long Vigil.

She'd also gotten to know that he lived a very sad, lonely life whether he wanted to admit it or not. For the first day, she'd prepared all his meals for him without being asked, trying to be the filial daughter she couldn't be to her mother, who tried to spoil her into a suspended childlike state. She stopped, however, when she remembered that she'd leave her father again soon, and that giving him too much of a break might cause her departure to be felt too strongly. He never showed it, but she knew that he didn't enjoy his life of solitude; he'd simply accepted it as unavoidable.

By the last day, she'd started to wonder how he'd survived out there so long. Sure, his material needs were taken care of, but his life was so plain. When she'd emptied her backpack to make sure she had enough provisions, he looked at a single page ripped out of a newspaper and the foldout travel map she'd brought with her (not the one that Lilith had marked with mustard) as if it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. Out of pity, she gave him both items, pledging to visit soon and bring him some reading material to keep himself busy. He'd need it, considering that her classes would resume soon enough, and that she needed to return.

On the final day, she prepared her hearthstone after having gone for one last run through the woods so she'd remember what he said was an easier route to return. The loneliness she'd sensed in him initially was gone, but she still felt sad for leaving him in such a bleak place.

"I'll come back," she said while clutching the stone in her hands. They'd remained in the first floor of his house lest anyone flying overhead noticed the green glow of her teleportation home (more experienced druids could actually cast a spell that returned them to Moonglade, but she didn't know how to cast it). "As soon as I get the time, I'll come and visit."

Hesitation fought joy in his voice, which she'd gotten used to over the past few days. "Just be careful when you do," he replied cautiously. "I want to see you, but please remember...all of this," he said while motioning to his isolated abode, "is so you can live safely."

Pain tugged at her heart again as she realized how much time from his own life he'd missed out on so she could live a normal one. Forcing herself to smile, she felt a sadness at leaving home that she hadn't remembered since the day she and her mother had left Serenity for Moonglade. "I will, dad," she replied, quickly activating the hearthstone before her emotions could overtake her.

Green swirls enveloped her, and the last thing she saw of that remote area was her father's smiling, blindfolded face in an empty house. The green energy didn't pull her through a tunnel the way a Highborne's portal would, but rather it simply caused her essence to materialize in Nighthaven without transition. A deep ringing sound echoed in the air rather than off of nearby objects, and she found herself in a circle of mushrooms that inhabitants of her neighborhood on the outskirts of the Cenarion Circle's city used for their magical returns. Nobody walking by took notice given how frequent the ability was used by locals, and she soon found herself walking home among all the cottages and treehouses.

Since she'd only been gone for a few days, none of her neighbors really took notice of her. Everybody was busy anyway; authorities in Moonglade didn't simply allow just anybody to move in, otherwise they'd be flooded with refugees. No, every person there was either a student, a teacher, a sleeping druid, or a person there with a specific job to do that the Circle's council itself had to approve. Loitering was never an issue at Nighthaven.

Walking almost anonymously throughout the dirt roads, Amandil finally came up to the treehouse where she and her mother lived. Taking a deep breath, she started to walk up the ramp winding around the treehouse's trunk toward their second story apartment. She could already hear her mother weeping from outside the door...had she been crying like that the whole time?

"Mom?" she asked while unlocking the door. Before she'd even closed it behind her, Vindra was running toward her with streaks of dried tears on her cheeks, shutting it for her and collapsing in a heap in her arms in one of the stranger role reversals of the prodigal daughter's life.

"WHY!?" Vindra sobbed while she ineffectively tried to drag Amandil over toward the kitchen. The druidess relented, not wishing the woman to embarrass herself.

Amandil let her backpack and staff fall against the wall as she pretended that her mother was actually strong enough to drag her. "Mom, I can explain-"

" **My own daughter - what did I do to deserve this**?" Vindra continued to sob, not too coherently, as she forcibly washed Amandil's hands. Leave it to her to think that, after having disappeared for a few days, the biggest problem Amandil would have faced was having dirtied hands. " **Am I that horrible to you that you HAD TO RUN AWAY**?"

"Mom, I'm..." Amandil stopped herself just before she'd wanted to mention that she wasn't a child anymore. Her mother was obviously upset, and defending her own actions would only give the impression that she actually _was_ running away from home. "Mom, I'm very sorry, but I have great news."

Vindra didn't even bother drying Amandil's hands off before she started to run her thumbs over her daughter's face, attempting to wash it as if Amandil was a toddler playing in mud puddles again. "I've done everything for you and you do this to me?! I THOUGHT YOU'D BEEN ABDUCTED, HOW DARE YOU!" Vindra then grabbed a bath towel and forcibly dried Amandil's face with it, at which point the druidess had finally reached her tolerance limit.

"Mom, _listen_ to me!" she replied while slapping the towel away, which only caused her mother to cry even more. "Come on, sit down."

Taking her mother by the wrist, she easily dragged her over to the sitting area and forced her down. Given Vindra's emotional state, she wasn't sure how much information the woman could take, but she didn't know how much blubbering she could listen to.

"Oh my goddess, oh no, no! Vindra, you joined a gang!"

"I...what?! Mom, stop talking for a minute!

"I should have seen the signs when you started setting off fireworks too close to tents!"

"That was only a week ago! What...mom, what on Azeroth do fireworks have to do with gang activity!" Amandil retorted, perhaps a little more harshly than she'd intended as Vindra just buried her face in a pillow and continued to weep. "I'm sorry, okay? Mom, I love you and I know you worried-"

"What did I do!"

" _Stahp_ ," Amandil replied firmly. "Mom, this is really, really important so I need you to calm down and focus, okay?" When her mother calmed down into a steady panting into the pillow, Amandil steeled her own nerve in preparation for the drama. "I met my dad." She grimaced prematurely, expecting the fury to be unleashed in a storm of tears and shouts, but her mother just panted into the pillow lightly. After a few seconds, she started to get worried. "Mom?"

Pulling Vindra over on the cushion they'd sat down on, she saw her mother's rolled back eyes. She'd literally just passed out from the news.

"Crap," Amandil muttered while moving her mother to a safe enough position where she wouldn't roll off of the bed before walking over to the sink. Once she'd wet her hands, she walked back over and started to flick water on her mother's face. "Come on, mom, let's chill out and talk."

For a few seconds she felt a bit of anxiety herself as she worried that her mother had experienced some sort of heart attack; Vindra was over ten thousand years old, and ever since immortality had ended she and other pre Sundering night elves had started to age. Fortunately the blackout appeared to be drama induced rather than health related, and Vindra started to stir.

"What...oh...where am I?" she asked in a voice so melodramatic that Amandil almost considered writing a book about what it was like to live in her household, just so people would actually believe her. "Oh! Mandy, you're here! I...was worried...you were only gone for a day, right?" she asked hopefully. Knowing her mother, she already probably knew the truth and was trying to foist her self delusion upon her daughter.

In this case, there simply wasn't any time. "I've been gone for a week, mom. I left because I needed to know about dad-"

"Your dad is dead!" Vindra cried, though from her tone of voice Amandil knew that the words were forced and fake.

"I'm not a kid anymore, mom! Those stories don't work like they did half a millennium ago! Come on, don't be naïve; you must have known what my motivation was when I started asking you about where you'd been posted in rotation. We haven't discussed that in three centuries, why would I bring it up now!"

"Because you're my curious little girl who asks questions!" Vindra's voice was weaker, though not in the sense that she was breaking down; the older elf's mind was obviously clear and lucid, and she was simply backed into a corner rather than delusional by that point. "You're such a diligent student, here, where you're supposed to be!"

"I met him, mom. It doesn't matter. It already happened and that can't be changed. I followed the clues to the Cypress Pallisades...I met Lilith. She toldme the whole story, and helped me find dad. He's still out there, in the same place, but it's okay; he toldme why he couldn't see me. I understand that you both did what you had to-"

"I-I-I wanted to be past this!" Vindra whined while clutching the pillow, yet another juxtaposition of roles as she looked like a counselor's patient on the couch. "I tried to move on with my life...I just wanted to pretend it was all a fantasy I made up!"

"Delusion won't serve us any longer, mom. Look, times are different now...we're no longer beholden to a specific grove where our movements are monitored. I'm a student and you're retired, and I'm grown up now; nobody has the right to monitor us, or to talk about us."

"He's a wanted man," Vindra replied, resisting but also seeming to calm down. "You'll be an accessory if you're seen with him."

"By who? We can sneak in there; he's hid out for this long-"

"We?"

Amandil paused, giving her mother's trembling fingers a hard look. "Mom...it's been so long that you've both been alone. You're not even going to try?"

A measure of self consciousness wove itself into her features. "I...Mandy...what are you asking?"

"I'm asking for us to be a family, finally-"

"Are you even listening to what you're saying?"

"Listen, mom! I thought about it a lot. Dad never brought it up, but I've been thinking. There's a way where we can still see each other. We can't go that often, but if we rent a single hippogriff, then we can ride to his location unseen in the daytime. At least once every few years...we're children of the stars. We're used to waiting very long periods of time in between family visits."

Clutching the pillow to her chest even more tightly, Vindra tried to hide her face. Her silver eyes, however, betrayed her hesitation; Amandil knew that her mother wanted to go.

"We...we split our own family for you," Vindra sighed painfully. "We stabbed ourselves in the heart for you. Everything...the lies, the separation...we did it all for you. I can't accept...I can't believe that it would just be over so easily."

"Will you continue living alone here while I'm out studying, whittling your last years away knowing that he's safe and alive?"

It was a low blow and Amandil knew it, but it was a desperate move as well. Vindra winced as if she'd been slapped, her heart strings tugged firmly and her resolve easily ground into nothing. Exhaling deeply into the pillow, her mother almost seemed to crumple back into the couch.

"If we...theoretically speaking, because I'm not saying that I'll go," Vindra said in a mousy voice. "In theory, if we go...we can avoid landing at any known flight points?"

"An exceptional hippogriff could fly there in a single night, given a few stops for water along the way."

"And...and...and...nobody would know that we're there?"

"Lilith visits him once a decade, and she even lives at a known location. She hasn't been caught since even longer than you've known dad."

Slowly pulling the pillow away from her face, Vindra opened up her mouth as if she wished to speak. Amandil's hopes raised tenfold.

"I don't know," Vindra quicky spat out before hiding behind the pillow again.

Stifling a laugh, Amandil felt a victorious jump in her heart rate when she saw the twinkle in her mother's eye. "I have another break in six weeks. It's only a long weekend - four days. But it's enough, because we can just use the hearthstone on ourselves to get back; the hippogriff will fly on its own."

Vindra continued to huddle like a child on the couch, not even looking up at her own actual child. "I don't know," she repeated.

That time, Amandil finally did laugh a bit. "Think about it; we have some time," she replied.

The two of them spent most of the night in silence.


	9. Reuniting

Amandil gently patted the back of the hippogriff's neck, directing it toward one of the few areas in Moonglade where the trees didn't also double as houses. Houses meant people, and people meant them being seen. Although Amandil felt entirely confident about their trip, Vindra was a nervous wreck for the entire time. For weeks Amandil had been packing and planning even though her mother hadn't officially agreed to come until a few days prior. She knew her mother would, but as if trying to reassert herself after her minor meltdown, the older elf had remained tight lipped about the subject until virtually the last minute.

Preparations had been discreet. There was little risk to Amandil; only her parents and her cousin knew the truth about her parentage. As far as the world new, she was just a happy go lucky druidess eager to test her skills in a remote area with few of her peers hogging all the quests. Vindra's situation was different: she was on record at having served at the Oaken Glade before its name change. Few people were likely to dig up such old skeletons in the closet, but Amandil respected her mother's worrisome nature and had appropriated the flying mount in secret from a certain Serenity original named Viniel.

One of Fewen's four aunts, Viniel was a flight attendant at the Nighthaven hippogriff roost, and had finagled one of the mounts in reserve while keeping the matter strictly off the books. Nobody would know the animal had been rented, and when it flew back on its own, Viniel would ensure that it remained out of action due to a schedule blessing at one of the local moonwells to augment its efficiency, a ritual that typically requires a few days of hibernation thereafter. Essentially, the daughter mother duo's tracks were covered. In true form of the good old girl network formed by small town sentinels who'd spent long periods of time as neighbors, Viniel didn't ask about the purpose of the trip a single time.

Once Amandil had landed, Vindra came out of her hiding spot. The older elf was wearing a used cloak and cowl she'd bought at a thrift sale in order to blend in better. Because Vindra had never actually seen combat or even a proper hunt, however, she didn't quite know how to wear it properly and the hood kept sliding too far forward on her head. Throwing any semblance of mother daughter roles out of her mind, Amandil cooed as her mother nearly started flailing her arms when the hood obscured her vision for the third time.

"You're cute," she told her mother while adjusting Vindra's hood for her.

"I'm not supposed to be," Vindra replied while tying her backpack to the hippogriff's saddle improperly.

Her mother checked and rechecked all of their provisions at least three times despite not knowing how to secure saddlebags, leaving Amandil to run a third check even after she'd finished. For a good long while, Vindra couldn't decide if she needed to go to the bathroom one last time or not, and then she thought that an eyelash was in her eye. Eventually, Amandil just picked her mother up and sat her down on the hippogriff's back, seating herself behind in case her mother started to squirm too much in mid flight. After a bit of scolding about how lifting up one's parents is disrespectful, Vindra quieted down enough for them to take a few deep breaths.

"Are you ready, mom?"

A few seconds lapsed while Vindra felt tense and almost afraid. "I...am. Let's just go before I change my mind."

Not needing to be told a second time, Amandil kicked her heels and gave the hippogriff the signal to bound toward a hill and lift off. The mount complied, gaining altitude at a very high velocity until it had put them high above the ground below. Vindra trembled for the first few minutes even though her daughter's arms were around her, causing Amandil to coo out loud.

For a good few hours the hippogriff soared on a very convenient thermal, both conserving energy and covering a lot of ground as they flew the relatively empty route across Felwood toward rural north central Ashenvale province. Colors gradually changed in the canopy far below them, providing a full view of the taint still left on the land by the minions of the Burning Legion. How ironic that they were going to visit a man who'd made a demonic pact for the sake of power...truly, Amandil understood her father's motivation. Were she ever to be forced to defend him in front of society, however, she wasn't sure that she'd know how. For so long, she'd hated demon hunters, just like the rest of proper Kaldorei society.

To say that her views had changed during the few days she'd spent with him was an understatement. Her father was so...elven. He didn't seem demonic to her at all, save his appearance. Of course, Amandil wasn't naïve; she knew that he couldn't simply rejoin the community. He was an outlaw, and would likely remain one for the remaining years that he and her mother would be granted by Elune. Until that time came, however, she'd stay by their sides and try her best to live some semblance of the normal family life she'd desired for so long.

After the first stop to drink water, go to the bathroom and eat, Vindra seemed much more relaxed on the back of the hippogriff. Once she let her hood fly down and smiled into the wind, the mount soaring at a very comfortable pace, Amandil tried to learn a little bit more about the life her parents had once tried to share. Goddess knew that Vindra had mostly been unwilling to say anything about the topic for the previous six weeks.

"Mom...are you awake?"

Vindra nodded without looking back, her voice loud and clear due to the near absence of turbulence. "Yes, I'm just enjoying the view," she replied. "This is much less scary than I'd expected."

The canopy broke below slightly to reveal a corrupted orange lake. A group of furbolgs surrounded one of their shaman, who appeared to be casting a spell that burned the corruption out of the lake. The sight made Amandil smile, her mind wandering to how much the world might improve over the coming years.

"Do you think dad can ever come out of hiding?"

Much more calm and collected than before, Vindra sighed deeply, the frantic woman that Amandil had witnessed weeks ago absent. "No. I'm sorry dear, but I can't envision that happening. Not when most of the demon hunters are either still locked up in jails or still fighting on the side of the Legion. And not when the case of that corrupted druid your father purged is considered closed, and not in Faraldor's favor."

Amandil smiled warmly. "That's the first time I've ever heard you say his name," she hummed, shocking herself by how much she sounded like a younger, female version of the man.

"That's the first time I've said his name since I left," Vindra replied, her voice saddened but not weak like it had been when she'd initially received the news. "I thought about him frequently, but there was nobody I could tell. I even avoided Priestess Lamynia during my daily activities out of fear that she'd probe my mind and find out what had happened.

"Priestess Lamynia..." Amandil murmured wistfully, remembering the leader that High Priestess Whisperwind had assigned to Serenity for ten thousand years. "She was so kind...don't you think she would have understood?"

"Not in this case...not in this case." Vindra began to sound even more depressed, and Amandil struggled to change the topic.

"Well, even if dad can't come out into the open, we can still see him, right? After so much time spent in hiding, I doubt anybody considers him to be a serious threat to public safety anymore. He's also obviously chosen a good place to live out his seclusion."

Far off in the distance, the darkened canopy of Felwood began to transition into dark shades of green and purple. Eventually the colors would lighten up a bit, signaling the transition toward Ashenvale as well as their approach toward their destination. Amandil's thighs were sore and she was sure that her mother's were too, but there was no reason to stop when they'd covered so much ground. Dawn was still hours away, meaning they were ahead of schedule.

"I guess..." Vindra breathed out into the light wind.

Dark green changed into light green, and the great Ashenvale purplewoods even started to poke out above the rest of the canopy as the hippogriff carried them closer and closer. The transition was uneven; there were parts where the corruption of Felwood jutted deep into Ashenvale, and there were portions of Felwood that were entirely cleansed - or had simply never been corrupted to begin with. The canopy gradually elevated even when the trees remained the same size, and Amandil recognized the plateau that her father had chosen as his hiding place.

Minute by minute, Vindra grew more and more tense, as if fearing the reunion that had been half a millennium in the making. Amandil hugged her as they rode, earning a pat on her shoulder as if her mother wanted to confirm that she'd be alright.

When her father's specific grove came into view, Vindra's pace of breathing increased. "It hasn't changed," she whispered into the wind, staring intently at the location.

Unbeknownst to her, Faraldor had apparently been watching, likely a part of his usual nightly habits as he observed all around his humble abode. Amandil noticed the flash of blue hair highlighted with grey diving from the treetops from branch to branch until he landed on the ground and planted his war glaives in the soil. The only part of the canopy that opened up by a significant margin gave both daughter and mother a clear view of the little yard he'd cultivated in front of his treehouse, the sheer drop into the runoff river only seen through a few spaces in between the leaves out back.

"Faraldor!" Vindra tried to cry, though her voice lost much of its power as the hippogriff circled to land. Stoic as ever, the demon hunter waited, watching as the creature came to a galloping stop in the yard.

He began to approach, causing Vindra to toss her riding goggles and gloves to the side. She forgot to unlatch her harness, however, and nearly fell to the ground when she tried to leap off the saddle. Knowing that she was about to witness a possibly painful reuniting, Amandil helped unfasten her mother from the saddle harness and then remained with the hippogriff herself, watching from afar as her mother ran to her father.

Wordlessly, he caught her as she fell into him, sobbing lightly against his neck as he hugged her much more tightly than he'd hugged Amandil. Rather than wailing, Vindra's cries were deep and from the back of her throat, much more forceful and emotional as she gasped for air. For the very first time Amandil even saw her father waver a bit as he squeezed Vindra's cloak like she'd float away in the wind if he didn't. They may or may not have been whispering to each other; Amandil didn't quite know for sure seeing as how she felt it inappropriate for her to interrupt. She'd had her own emotional reunion with her father; now it was her mother's turn.

After a few minutes of whispering, her parents pulled back and stared into each other's eyes. It was both cute and awkward for Amandil, who until then had no idea what it was like to actually see her parents together, since she'd technically grown up in a single parent household. When her mother kissed her father more passionately than Amandil had ever kissed the boyfriends she hid from the woman, she actually turned away. Previously, she'd never understood what her friends were talking about when they remarked on how gross their parents could be when spending time together. Now she did, no matter how touching their hug a few minutes before had been.

When her parents were finished with their totally gross display, Faraldor looked toward her. "I didn't expect you to return so soon," he said apologetically. "It's almost dawn and I've only prepared enough food and water for one person."

Vindra looked playfully offended. "I haven't seen you in so many hundreds of years...I can wait a few minutes while we prepare more. It doesn't matter. We came - that's all that matters now."

The hippogriff chirped impatiently, its nearly sentient level of intellect shining through its eyes as if it was begging. "I brought my hearthstone, dad; I'll go ahead and send the hippogriff back if we don't need it for anything. We have people who are expecting it back in order to cover our trail."

At the mention of covering themselves, Faraldor's eye sockets glowed a little more brightly. "Good, good. Go ahead and send it back then. Everything we need can be harvested nearby, and we certainly don't need to be seen."

Amandil nodded and slapped the mount on the flank, sending it to a healthy trot before it took off, soaring above the canopy. Vindra and Faraldor appeared to be enamored with each other again, causing Amandil to simultaneously coo and squirm. As weird as it might have been, she found herself openly staring at them for a few seconds, marveling at the scene she'd dreamed of for so long. Her father was different from how she'd always imagined him, but that didn't matter. He was there, he was with them, and for at least the long weekend, they'd be able to act like a family.

"Come on inside...there will be time to talk once we're sitting down," he said as he led the two of them toward his treehouse. "I'm sure there's quite a bit to tell that I didn't even manage to hear from Amandil in the few days she was here last."

A sappy look that was cute and uncomfortable for Amandil at the same time flashed in her mother's eyes. "Let's, then...there's so much to discuss." Her eyes welled up with a few tears as they walked inside, though they were obviously joyful. "I want to savor every minute that we're here."


	10. Reeling

Amandil stood back from the bookshelf and held a thumb to her chin. No matter how she arranged the meager amount of books she'd brought in her backpack, she just couldn't decide whether they were better arranged alphabetically by author name or by subject matter. For such a small collection, one would have thought that the decision would be an easy one, but no - after having spent the better part of the hour since she'd been awake deciding, she still wasn't satisfied.

She'd only managed to fit ten titles of varying sizes in her backpack and saddlebag. On purpose, she'd chosen as diverse an array of subjects as she possibly could. Seeing as how long her father had spent alone, she figured he'd appreciate being able to learn about new things. In particular, an almanac of recent history had piqued his interest the moment she'd shown it to him. The largest book she'd brought, it detailed all that had occurred since the Third War, which was of vital importance to him seeing as how he hadn't seen Lilith since their people's immortality had been lost, and only recognized the fact because he'd noticed all the grey hairs that had been popping up in his scalp and stubble. How exactly he'd noticed without eyes was beyond her, and the topic of his class and his troubles was swept aside. All that mattered was that they were together for a time, and Amandil made it her job to keep him as comfortable as possible.

Her mother, of course, was an expert at that. Since she'd spent ten millennia as a domestic worker, her prowess in the field of home economics was unparalleled. She might not know how to fling a glaive, but she could remove any spot from clothing and add flavor to any formerly bland dish, all without expending any effort. Just as she spoiled Amandil to the point where it became smothering, Vindra had tried to prevent Faraldor from doing anything for himself. Despite his independence, he gave up on trying to dissuade her early on, acquiescing to her insistence much faster than Amandil would have. Loneliness could do that to even the most stalwart of people, and seeing her parents' relationship - which was lopsided in the view of Amandil's matriarchal brain - was as fascinating as it was cute.

Speaking of the angel, Amandil's ears pricked up as she heard the patter of light footsteps coming down the ramp. The moon hadn't even risen yet, which had been Amandil's personal time for the past few days. It had also been the alone time for her parents, and she'd taken to patrolling the area in panther form in the early evening. Her mother's early rousal from bed was a bit odd.

Wearing one of her father's shirts as pajamas and royally creeping her out by doing so, Vindra rubbed her eyes and yawned as she approached Amandil. "Good morning, sweetie," her mother said while tucking her hair behind her ears for her. "They look better organized by author name."

Amandil's eyebrows shot up in a sharp arch. "How did you know what I was thinking?" she asked in awe.

Ignoring her daughter's expression and walking over to the corner used as a rudimentary kitchen, Vindra began to kindle some flame for the cauldron her father kept that was probably as old as the druidess herself. "I raised you," Vindra replied in the closest tone to a taunt that was likely capable for her. Not even looking back, she began to prepare the bit of coffee grounds that they'd brought with them.

Smiling at her mother's pleasant shift in attitude, Amandil went back to straightening up the drab bottom floor and rearranging the few personal items her father actually owned. "You sure did," she mumbled absentmindedly, not really giving the words any thought.

When Vindra's rhythmic stirring of the coffee slowed down, Amandil knew that there was something on her mind. Just as mother knew daughter from raising her, daughter knew mother from being raised. "What is it?" she asked knowingly.

Vindra continued preparing the coffee, and only spoke after a minute or so of silence. "Mandy, dear, there's something that I need to talk to you about," she said ominously. Since her mother's view of 'ominous' was often a bit subdued, Amandil didn't feel any sense of anxiety from the vagueness.

"Well obviously. What's up?"

Her mother's pace while finishing the drinks slowed down considerably, as if she was quite apprehensive regarding what she was about to say. "You know I always love you no matter what, right?"

Amandil didn't need any cue beyond that; she knew her mother too well. "I honestly _want_ you to stay here with dad," she said with a wry smile.

"I know that you need me to guide you through life's hurdles; truly, I do understand, but sometimes situations change, which is what I wanted to talk to you about."

Raising a suspicious eyebrow, Amandil noticed that her mother was rather tense. "Uh...mom, did you hear what I said? I kind of figured out that you want to stay here, and I'm happy for you."

Seeming to ignore her, Vindra continued through the obviously prepared monologue. "There comes a time in every person's life where they need to consider living on their own, you know, independent."

"Mom, I'm literally a few sentences ahead of you. Like, I already guessed exactly..." She paused, realizing that this talk was more for her mother than herself. Vindra's hands were shaky again as she poured the coffee into three ancient cups, and the thought that her mother had heard exactly what she'd said and was simply in denial again made her feel bad. "What were you saying, mom?"

"Well, what I'm getting at is that you're getting older now, and you're almost to the point where you can make your own decisions." Amandil didn't know whether to be amused or offended by her mother's view of her, but held her tongue as Vindra poured her heart out. "I would never ever want you to be out of my life, but for a young woman blossoming into adulthood, a bit of time to yourself might do you some good."

 _I've been telling you that for how many centuries now_? Amandil thought to herself, pursing her lips not to laugh. It wouldn't be a mocking or rude laugh in the least, but she still felt that her mother deserved to have her feelings validated. Smothering or not, Amandil couldn't have been luckier to have her considering the family's situation.

"Is that so?" she asked.

"Yes, it really is," her mother replied, finally answering her directly. "That's why I think I should tell you that I plan on taking a vacation here. With your father. Really, the situation has become safe in the sense that as long as he stays in this area, nobody ever notices his presence. And since I lived in Serenity for so long without every venturing outside, unlike you, I'm comfortable remaining in a small space."

No longer able to contain herself, Amandil breathed a tremendous sigh of relief for more reasons than one. For her mother being bold enough to let herself be happy, for her father to no longer be alone, for herself to be able to live a grownup life. And knowing that she could safely visit her parents at any time with Viniel's help meant that, in Amandil's eyes, this wasn't goodbye at all.

"So are you and dad officially getting...like, married finally?" she asked, feigning innocence. "I won't be a bastard anymore?"

"Mandy, language."

 _You've got to be kidding_... "Sorry, mom."

"I forgive you. Anyway, this might be good for all of us. Moonglade is a safe place, and you'll have plenty of extra time to study. And since I'm not legally registered as a worker, nobody will take notice that I've left. Honestly, I think this will be for the best."

Practically bouncing with glee, Amandil walked across the room and gave her mother a hug, more out of thanks for the breathing room than any sort of melancholy. In fact, she couldn't feel happier for them all; she would have hated to leave her father alone again at the end of her four day trip.

"Thank you for trusting me, mom."

"Well, perhaps it's about time."

Heavier footsteps from upstairs heralded the approached of a somewhat changed man. Prior to Vindra's arrival, Amandil had known her father as the paranoid type who stepped so lightly that she couldn't even hear his approach inside the house. After the two of them arrived, however, and their perfectly imperfect family life began, he'd relaxed a little bit. Not to the point where she could make dad jokes about her experiences when with a group of her friends, but sufficient that he did finally seem like a stereotypical 'dad.'

"Good evening," he mumbled, half asleep while Vindra mouth kissed him. Amandil cringed and tried to find something to do by the breakfast table, weirded out by the bizarre combination of cuteness and grossness.

"Evening, dad," Amandil replied while she organized their Darnassian bleu cheese and various fruit that grew naturally around the grove. Her parents moved to sit down, and she brought over the breakfast and coffee to them, almost feeling like a proper daughter for once instead of a perennial child.

The three of them ate and sipped coffee pleasantly for a good while, enjoying their time as they chatted about lighter topics. Being their third day in, their time hadn't yet come to an end - or, to be more exact, Amandil's time there. The revelation that her parents would actually be together again warmed her heart even more than the closure of finally having met her father. Though their banter was much more tame than hers, she still liked to listen to the two of them, watching intently at the way they both became more animated (for people so many millennia old) when she fell quiet and observed.

It was her father who became disturbed first. Over the course of their conversation, Amandil noticed every so subtly how his left ear began to twitch. Vindra was oblivious, but Amandil had been a huntress for centuries; even when not shifted into the panther form granted to her by her newly chosen class, her senses were sharp. Over the course of maybe half a minute, Faraldor's upper lip stiffened, the corners of his mouth losing the comfortable looseness they'd held for the past few days of bliss.

Amandil could slowly feel the pores on the back of her neck itching, her feeling of being watched rapidly increasing. Vindra was saying something about growing squash in the yard, her words only stayed by the increasingly tense clench of Faraldor's fists on his lap.

"Honey? What's wrong?"

The falling of many paws on the ground came first. Deep and sonorous, the barely audible sound vibrated up through the bottom of the treehouse, tickling the soles of Amandil's feet in a way that a human or orc wouldn't have noticed. The surface of her unfinished coffee roiled, finally catching Vindra's eye as she stopped talking.

Then the voices started. Nightsabre growls at first, bouncing off of the trees outside and signaling at least eight of the big cats plus a bear. The sound of sentinels ululating followed, though the battle cries died down as the outriders approached, replaced by the sound of many paws scuffing to a stop and another druid shapeshifting outside. Before Vindra could even start to fret about the commotion, Faraldor had already leapt across the room and pulled an set of iron rods from the floor, sliding them into conveniently placed compartments around the edge of the unusually heavy door. It seemed that his paranoia about security was finally being confirmed.

"What's happen mmmpphhh," Vindra mumbled, cut off when Amandil clamped her hand over her mother's mouth.

Slinking like a shadow, her father waved for both of them to follow him upstairs. As they crept up the ramp and crawled across the floor to the window facing the front yard, they could already hear the sound of a voice so familiar that it nearly caused Amandil's previously warmed heart to freeze solid.

"Attention!" came the wheezy, nasally voice of a certain silver haired outrider that had once introduced herself as the quartermistress of a guild seeking recognition. "Line up, aspirant heroines and heroes of the the Kaldorei!"

"Who is mmph."

"Mom!" Amandil hushed out at her mother, for once not feeling guilty about disrespecting her parent.

Inch by inch, the three of them crawled over to the walls on either side of the window, leaning against it so they could better hear the scene unfolding. Based on breathing patterns, Amandil could sense six nightsabres and eight night elves, six of them female and two of them male. Scenarios flashed through her mind as she remembered the rowdy sentinels she'd seen at the Oaken Glade, the harassment she'd deflected from the silver haired quartermistress outside, the warning from her cousin...

...oh no.

All her life, Amandil had lived with her mother in a grove of only twenty five women. They were each other's sisters in all but blood, supporting each other in - what they'd thought at the time to be - an eternal quest to forever protect nature until the Burning Legion returned to their planet. They lived communally despite personality differences, sharing everything until the day that their servitude to nature ended with the sacrifice of the World Tree to defeat Archimonde. After that, many of them had scattered, their village overpopulated by outlanders and their traditional lifestyle shattered by modernity. Most of them had tried to stay in touch one way or another. All but a few.

And the voice of the guild leader outside...the one that Lilith had warned her about...was most definitely one of those few.

"Captain Gwynneth, the profligate a were sighted harvesting fruit just yesterday! It seems that the lodge tender's confession was accurate!"

No...

...no...

...Amandil's heart beat irregularly, and her mother's surely did as well, as revelation dawned on them. Of all the twenty five Serenity originals, only one of them had ever been punished for instigating discord among the ranks of their patrols and picking fights with the others. In that poisonous woman's seven thousand year life, she was by far the least liked of all their shield sisters, and was the only one whose departure from the grove hadn't been mourned. Vindra's eyes widened as she realized who it was, just as Faraldor's eyebrows arched beneath his blindfold at the revelation of his niece being forced into a confession.

Ragged breathing and a few whimpers rang out as a body, heretofore unnoticed by Amandil, was tossed to the dirt. A sadly familiar voice cried out as an armored boot met a ribcage, and Faraldor silently snarled, furious in his inability to intervene with so many opponents outside.

Intentionally heavy footsteps echoed and medals jingled as one of the aggressors stepped ahead of the others. A voice that Amandil had almost blotted out of her mind grated on her ears, the voice forced to be monotone as if the speaker thought she sounded noble and dignified that way.

"She talked, Vindra; they always talk," came the anxiety inducing voice of Gwynneth, the shame of Serenity. Lilith cried out again at the sound of a gauntlet slapping the back of a head, and Faraldor's entire body tensed up as if he was ready to perform a suicide dive on to their aggressors right then and there. "I have to hand it to her...she really tried to hold out. I've seen mountain giants crack under less pressure. But...after a few beatings, it was the threat of losing her _other_ ear that broke her. We know about you and this...this...this animal that you're out here with. You shouldn't have allowed so much back and forth movement in so short a period of time."

"We have to do something!" Amandil whispered to her father.

"Wait," he whispered in reply.

Metal scraped on the ground and an injured person struggled as Gwynneth sounded like she was grabbing somebody. "That's right, isn't it, Lilith? You and your little cousin _Mandy_ ," she said with a derisive sneer, "are guilty of aiding and abetting a fugitive. A murderer. Vindra's loverboy." Another thud rang out as Gwynneth ostensibly dropped Lilith to the ground, and by the sound of her voice, she was facing the window again. "It's over; we know you're there. Show yourselves. We'll carry out a summary execution of the heretic now, but for you two, and happy little Lilly here, we're prepared to accept your surrender."

Unable to stand it any longer, Faraldor stood up, earning a round of jeers from the people downstairs. Amandil was at her father's side, blocking her mother from few as she looked over their attackers. The same quartermistress, four henchwomen, four snarling sabres and two bear druids who looked so pissed off that they might as well have been oversized purple dwarves - they all formed a semi circle out front. Standing before them all was the real traitor herself, decked out like a military official despite the fact that she was simply leading around an unapproved guild. With a face like she was sucking on a lemon, Gwynneth stood with her arms folded behind her back, her guild tabard splattered in Lilith's blood.

"Lilith!" Amandil cried, losing her composure when she saw the state of her cousin.

Her eyes swollen shut, Lilith was battered and bruised, her clothing torn and a clump of her hair pulled out. What was most horrifying, however, was her left ear...or, to be accurate, half of an ear. It was a smooth, clean cut as if performed surgically, scraping at Amandil's very soul as she wondered what her long lost cousin had endured for their sakes.

"Leave us alone, all of us!" Vindra screamed at Gwynneth as she pushed her way to the windowsill. "We're just trying to live our lives, we aren't hurting anybody!"

As if her scowl couldn't grow any more pronounced, Gwynneth almost seemed to flex the muscles of her face to display an over the top amount of contempt. "Disrespect the law and you disrespect us aw," she replied tersely, mispronouncing the word 'all' in an idiotic attempt to sound poetic.

"Gwynn...for...for seven millennia, I was your sister in all but blood! Our sacred grove was about family, about trust...please, don't do this! We always stood by each other-"

In the middle of Vindra's sentence, Gwynneth turned away and waved her hand so dismissively that to even label the gesture as an insult would be granting it more interest than it bore. In the rudest way possible, she brushed Vindra's plea away, cutting the conversation short as she walked among her followers and ignored the family behind her.

"WAR is recruiting!" Gwynneth said to the amassed fighters in an overdone dialect as archaic as the rune on her tabard. "Since these ingrates reject our mercy, then your quest for membership is clear: remove them from existence. Clean this mess up and report back at the village; whoever strikes a killing blow makes officer." Giving one last malicious glance at Lilith, Gwynneth paused before mounting her own sabre alongside that of her quartermistress. "Leave this one alive; let her watch so she can warn others of what happens to our enemies."

Vindra only gave a few token protests as her neighbor of seven thousand years mounted alongside the quartermistress and rode away, leaving their cronies to perform their dirty work. Faraldor just remained silent with rage, obviously the parent whom Amandil had inherited it from as she stared down the group of potential recruits for Gwynneth's guild laugh, crack their knuckles and make rude gestures.

"I'm sorry," Lilith whimpered into the grass while coughing up blood.


	11. Parting

Once Vindra quieted down, none of the trio even bothered challenging Gwynneth directly or trying to reason with her as she and her right hand woman rode away. There was no reason to; the decision to kill them all had already been made before the confrontation had even taken place. Knowing Gwynneth, the entire showdown had merely been a ruse to impress the potential guild recruits below, a motley crew of mostly younger night elves who appeared as if they'd been whipped up into a zealous frenzy with talk about blasphemy, the law and other concepts that even Amandil would have been swayed by just over six weeks ago. There had never been any possibility of surrender or negotiation; this was all about one ambitious guild leader on a power trip so obsessive that she could easily sentence her own former shield sisters to death.

One of the four sentinels below waved around a barbed crescent in a threatening display. "Open the door and accept your fate, and we'll make it fast and easy," she hissed, giving the daughter and father a crazed look as if she was preparing to defend Kalimdor from Kil'jaeden himself.

"I hope they don't open the door," snickered another sentinel while rubbing her palms together like the villainess in children's plays.

At first, Amandil prepared to nudge her father to speak, but then she realized the reason for his silence. Seeing as how he may as well have been the Dark Titan incarnate for these people, the druidess tried to reason with them.

"I swear to you that we'll pack up and leave," she announced to them while holding her empty palms out in a peaceful gesture. "We'll sail across the ocean and never come back, and the Kaldorei will never have to see us again if you just let us go-"

"Enough of your trickery and deceit!" bellowed one of the two bear druids.

Out of the corner of her eye, Amandil noticed Lilith squirming away inch by inch, degraded to the point of wiggling through the grass. By that point survival took precedent over dignity, and all Amandil could do was try to keep their interlocutors distracted - she didn't believe for one second that they'd follow Gwynneth's order to leave Lilith alive at the end.

"My brother, there is no trickery here...had we harbored ill will for our fellow children of the stars-"

The same bear druid's face twisted in disgust. "Don't you dare call yourselves by the blessed name of-"

"Aaaaaiiiiieeee!" Vindra screamed from the back of the room, giving Amandil a jolt before she could even realize that her mother had left downstairs in the first place.

Possessing a speed that seemed impossible for her, Vindra hurled a bucket of something downward at the group, not giving them the time to realize what she'd done until the boiling hot coffee already splashed the bear druid all over the face and one of the sentinels on her glaive arm.

"Aaarrgggh!" both aggressors yelled, though the bear druid was obviously in much more pain.

The sentinel frantically removed her bracer, panicking due to the scalding hot coffee that seeped into her leathers. The druid, however, rolled on to the ground, steam escaping from in between his fingers as he covered his face. Although his colleague cast a rejuvenation spell onto his face, Amandil knew enough from her healing class that the man would be permanently disfigured. Her mother's coffee was _hot_.

"Mom...seriously?" she asked her nearly hyperventilating mother, unsure of whether to wag her finger for the stoking of hostilities or to high five Vindra for having nailed the fanatic when he was in mid sentence. Really, by that point, there was no negotiation anyway; hostilities were increasing exponentially second by second, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

The second bear druid wove another spell onto the sentinel's arm and tried to help his groaning colleague into a standing position. The initial, wild eyed sentinel who'd accosted them stepped forward, snapping her fingers at the nightsabres. "Kill!" she commanded all four mounts as the dark furred cats began snarling and pawing at the door. The sentinel then notched an arrow in her bow, prompting Faraldor to shut the heavy oak shudder of the window, which he also locked shut with iron bolts.

Several arrows pierced the shudder, poking a few inches through and forcing all three family members to take a step back. Amandil reeled, too many thoughts flying through her mind at once. They'd been having breakfast, they'd been enjoying their newfound family life, they'd been making plans; they'd been happy.

Seething in anger, she turned toward her father. "Dad...Lilith can't fight. Mom can't either - no offense. Can we sneak out and rout them?"

His ancient mind calculating every possible outcome, the ancient demon hunter shook his head. "The only way out is the back window, and that leads straight down - we'd have to climb back up. They'd kill your cousin first, and then surround us when we climbed back up."

Feeling the heat rise in her temples, she grit her teeth, her anger unraveling. "The front window - we can drop right onto them!"

"We'll be in the middle of nine uninjured opponents. Even if I knew how to metamorphosize, we can't beat them all."

"My - my hearthstone! We can warp back to Moonglade now! We..." Amandil's voice caught in her throat, due to some stupid spec of saliva or something like that, and she ignored the lump it caused. "Lilith would...she would understand," she said while her heart rate jumped through the roof, causing her to feel mildly nauseous.

"I'm a heretic wanted for murdering a druid...I'll be killed on sight and you and your mom would be arrested. And Lilith would still be killed as well."

Wood shook as the entire building vibrated, causing Vindra to jump. The roar of a bear rang out as the sentinels cheered the shifted druid on, and Amandil started to panic as much as her mother had when she realized that the bear druid was slamming his entire weight against the door in order to break it down. These people were driven by fanaticism, just like Amandil had been, and believed they'd ascend to some higher level in their lives by ending those of the newfound family members. Acid reflux jumped into Amandil's throat in reaction to the injustice, stinging her with her own breakfast as she clenched her molar teeth tightly enough for her to hear it.

Vindra stood silently next to them, her hands folded over each other as the very civilian night elf for wed solemnly. Desperate to salvage what she'd try to build, Amandil found her thoughts becoming jumbled in her mind.

"We can...dad, we can let them come in and fight them all the way upstairs-"

"Breathe."

"-wait, wait, this will work, we can fight them backward. I mean, we can back up as we fight them frontward, in the front. When they're in front of us, and we back up-"

" _Breathe_."

"-listen to me, you have to listen to me! We'll jump out the back window after taking a few of them out, they won't even surround us! I mean, we can run straight back toward the ramp stairsup, and then-"

"Mandy."

Her mother's soft, frighteningly calm plea gave her pause just as the bear druid roared again. Claws dug into the soil as he got a running start, slamming his body into the door again while the sentinels whistled and ululated below. The heavy door creaked, and Amandil could have sworn that she heard the sound of an iron rod breaking through wood. Despite his injury, the other bear druid roared and charged at the door as well, earning a round of excited snarls from the nightsabres when the door started to give way.

Vindra took Amandil by the wrist, far too gently for such a crisis. Her mother's watery visage looked entirely devoid of any nervousness, which only served to increase Amandil's.

"Mandy...for so very, very long, your father and I have lived with broken hearts. Everything we wanted for ourselves, we gave up...because we wanted you to have a better life. We don't regret it, neither of us; not for one fraction of a second across all these centuries. No matter how bad the ache grew, no matter how unloved we felt, no matter how bad the pain was knowing that we could never be together...I can speak for both him and myself when I say: we would do it all over again."

"You, you don't have to! Mom, we can run away, we can try to escape we can try to fight them-"

The house shook a fourth time, and a groan rang out as one of the shifted druids slammed into the door so hard that one of the iron rods broke out from the doorframe and skidded across the floor on the first story. More arrows pierced the window shudder, and the sound of moon glaives slicing against the door frame followed thereafter.

Paralyzed, Amandil struggled lightly when her father took her by the other wrist, finding that all of her strength was drained as they pulled her toward the back window. Both of their faces were a bit sad but mostly determined, confronting her with the sort of stern authority figures she'd never dealt with in her entire life given her mother's usually mousy nature.

But this time, her mother wouldn't budge.

"Please, Mandy, if you respect our wishes, and if you recognize what we gave up for you...let us do this. Don't throw away all the suffering we went through so you could live a normal life, without our baggage. If we can ask for one thing of you in our selfishness, then it's to let us do our jobs. They're not going to stop, Mandy...these people aren't going to stop. You have to warp back to Moonglade...Gwynn won't be able to hurt you there, ever. There are no witnesses here other than her. Take Lilith, go back, and lie...Caledith won't ever let any harm come to you-"

"No!" Amandil whined, finding her voice however weak it was, twisting and turning in a failed attempt to wiggle out of her parents' grasp. The other bear druid pushed the door partially open, allowing the growls and hisses of the nightsabres as well as the sentinels to echo up the ramp. "I...I tried so hard to make this work...we can't let these people take it from us so soon!"

"We took a risk, Mandy; we were observed. We were caught. I'd rather to have spent this time as a family together than to have lived out the end not knowing...it's not fair, but life isn't fair."

They continued pulling her, and she relented, cold, hard logic pounding away at her psyche. "I can't just leave you either way...if these people kill you, they'll come after me anyway! Why can't I just let my end be here? As a family?!"

"I'll overcharge my immolation spell and demolish the building from the inside," Faraldor said while handling Amandil a bit more roughly, a more traditional sort of Kaldorei parent that she wasn't quite used to. She bristled, unfamiliar with the idea of her parents forcing her to do something she didn't want to instead of her just browbeating her mother until she got her way, but her father's grip was too strong. "There won't be any witnesses, and you and Lilith can go straight to Moonglade. Even if this Gwynn person can threaten you out here, she'll never be able to touch you there."

A measure of sadness worked its way into his powerful voice in the most noticeable way since she'd been reunited with him. "May the goddess grant you children to carry on the family line...and when that time comes, you'll understand why we have to do this," he said while lifting her up to the back windowsill without a moment of hesitation. "We've given everything we had so you can be free from people like this...we will not let them or anybody else take that freedom away."

Her sinuses suddenly clogged, Amandil failed to speak, just shaking her head like her mother as her parents hugged her one last time. The door downstairs gave way, ending their goodbye before it had even truly begun. Cursing herself for her cowardice, Amandil allowed her parents to push her out the window, merely saving herself and no one else as she braced for impact on the steep incline and tumbled down the plateau below. The almost sheer drop was covered in fallen leaves, scattered rocks and numerous trees growing out of the side, though the bruises she suffered on the way down were nothing compared to the survivor's guilt tearing her soul in two. Digging her fingers into the hard packed soil, Amandil stopped her descent just before she rolled into the runoff stream at the base of that level of the plateau, her ears ringing from the explosion of an overcharged immolation spell above.

She turned, finding herself almost blinded by the light of the demonic fire. Huge chunks of the treehouse sailed past her, impacting the ground at a high enough velocity to make her lose her balance. Stumbling and dodging burning chunks of wood that fell like pieces of her shattered family, Amandil shapeshifted into panther form and bounded up the incline, leaping among the boughs of the trees growing out of the side just like her father had taught her. Tears dripped onto the purple fur of her cheeks and collected on her whiskers as an inkling of moronic, pitiful hope tugged at her heart strings once more. Praying for a miracle she knew wouldn't come, she dragged herself back over the edge, dodging a stream of fire that shot out and then retracted.

The heat was unbearable. Several times, she tried to walk among the flames, only to flee when the temperature started to hurt her eyes. Aside from the base of the house, nothing was recognizable aside from a few lumps in the pile, even the iron cauldron in her father's kitchen having melted within seconds. Too devastated to even wail or whine anymore, the panther just sank, her mind buzzing as she struggled against falling into cognitive dissonance and believing that it had all been a dream, that her parents were still at home, and this was an entirely different place where she'd imagined bad things had happened.

Hacking and coughing alerted her to the sole survivor, breathing raggedly in the bushes behind her. Remembering her only family member left alive on the face of the planet, Amandil stalked over to the bushes and took Lilith's belt in her mouth, dragging the battered woman by that since too much of the jumpy archer's clothing had been ripped by Gwynneth to form a decent handle. Once her cousin was a decent ways away from the fire, she shifted back into elven form, kneeling as she checked Lilith for further injuries. The blue haired woman's skin was covered in cigarette burns that had long since cooled down, her bruises were dark but no longer fresh, and the horrendous cut on the remaining half of her left ear had been cauterized previously. On her head, however, was a fresher bruise that Amandil assumed that was the result of the blast, and was the cause of Lilith's semi consciousness.

Even though Amandil had only met her long lost cousin a single time, she began to panic. Lilith was the only connection to her family that she still had, and as she tried to summon her natural magic, her hands began to shake like her mother's when nervous. Every mental image and muscle memory of healing vegetables in class was at the forefront of her mind as she tried to focus her hands, searching for physical injury rather than illness. Anger and frustration caused her lip to quiver, and Amandil found herself reaching into her mana pool despite her lack of experience with healing people.

The fire burned on the charred remains of the house, gradually lighting up the night sky less and less. The temperatures had been so high that there wasn't even the stench of burnt flesh, bones themselves having disintegrated from the hear of the overcharged spell. Amandil fought hard, so very hard, to push the sight out of her mind and ignore what had just happened. But as her repeated attempts to heal her cousin failed, the image of her parents wouldn't leave her, as if reminding her that she was the one whose efforts had caused all of...this.

"I...have...failed...my test," she whimpered as she held Lilith's limp form in her arms.

Self hatred boiled up in reaction to her own impotence. The fire from her father's immolation spell burned out without smoke, the demonic nature of it simply consuming matter directly into energy without any material loss. The final piece of the ramp that had remained standing simply crumbled in midair, most of the ashes blowing away before they could even drift to the ground. Black flakes covered what minimal amount of charred roots remained, leaving absolutely no possibility of either her family or her foes surviving.

For the longest time, Amandil sat on her knees with Lilith splayed across her lap. The fires dissipated, leaving her only with the silence of a cruel, unforgiving world that would mock her with the possibility of a normal family life only to rip it away in a matter of days. During a brief moment of weakness, she almost considered just...staying there. Right where her father had been, condemning himself to a life with nothing but corrupted treants for company.

The breeze picked up, as if the wind was making a failed attempt to uplift her mood by tickling her ears. Shaking her head to nobody, Amandil remained where she was, wincing at the pain in her chest and her left shoulder blade every time she inhaled. Why...why couldn't it have been her? If her parents had given up so much, wasn't it her turn? Why couldn't they let themselves be happy, to just be together finally?

Cinders swirled around in the breeze, somehow still warm even after the fires had cooled down. It felt like a cruel joke, like the ashes themselves were trying to remind her of her failure. Sparkling and silvery blue, they danced around in front of her, as if trying their hardest to remind her of what she'd lost...

...ashes are not silvery blue.

Furrowing her brow in confusion, Amandil wondered just how delusional she'd become in those few minutes, wiping her eyes and looking up at the dance. The lights almost hurt her eyes at first, bright like miniature starts until her vision adjusted. They floated around each other in a circle, slowing down once she began to inspect them more closely. There were no flakes inside of them, their light somehow existed on its own without a visible source. Amandil's ears twitched, and she felt her core clench when she realized that there wasn't actually any breeze blowing that night.

The two lights hovered closer and closer, illuminating the dirt and ash smeared on her robes and Lilith's skin. Warmth heated up Amandil's chilled fingers, reducing the tingling numbness caused by repeatedly casting a spell that was beyond her grasp. Their hovering slowed down until they both moved next to each other, hanging right below her eye level.

Her mouth opened silently and she sucked in air, sniffling as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing. Her hand reached out, just barely sweeping over the top of both lights, as if testing to see if they were real. They moved closer to her, her vision finally adjusting to the point where the details within became clear.

The orbs in the center of the sourceless lights became less cloudy, allowing her to discern the difference between lighter and almost dark. Features took shape in the form of elven faces, as she'd observed many times within the wisps that her people relied upon so much. She gasped as realization dawned upon her, the face of Vindra relaxed and almost stoic, though very slightly amused by her reaction. Next to Vindra was another face, formerly serious but now just as relaxed, it's head bereft of the demonic horns which had once crowned it. Most striking was toward the top, where Faraldor looked back at her with in tact, undamaged eyes.

So many words floated around in her mind, but all of them failed to reach her lips. The very faint smiles tugging at both of her parents' mouths was sufficient, even in the most agonizing moment of her life. No tears fell even as her lip quivered again, and she almost found herself laughing at the situation. It really was them...her parents were gone. Murdered. But they were together again. She could tell by the serene expressions they both shared.

A certain warmth filled her hand as she held it over top of them, causing her trembling to cease as a second wind uplifted her. She moved her other hand toward them as well, absorbing the warmth in both hands as she felt a brief yet strong surge of power. She barely even moved them before the green swirls began to jump out of her palms and toward Lilith. Too awestruck to think, Amandil moved her hands lower, watching as the magic jumped out and rotated around Lilith's wounds. They weren't healed completely, and a light afterburn was left on Amandil's hands after casting a spell she'd never formally practiced, but it was enough; the swelling around her cousin's eyes and finger joints reduced, and Lilith's unconscious breathing became a little more even.

Realizing what was happening, Amandil snapped her head up quickly, looking her parents - including her father - in the eyes one last time. His normal, healthy eyes glowed with the same pride as her mother's, telling her more than they could have through words anyway.

Her anger at the injustice was present, though diminished as she realized that they'd only done what they felt they had to. Thoughts of retaliation melted away for the moment, replaced by her acceptance that, at least this way, they'd never be apart from each other again.

Twinkling at her one last time, the two wisps whirled around slowly, waving to her in the only way they could. This time Amandil didn't hesitate, waving back and letting out one more shuttering breath before she smiled. Their job had been completed...for better or for worse, they knew that their efforts hadn't been in vain. The two wisps twirled around, floating high above the hole in the canopy left in the treehouse's wake. On that windless night, they floated northbound, joining the rest of the risen to forever watch over the forests they'd held so sacred.

Stirring beneath her signaled Lilith's consciousness, and Amandil looked down to find her cousin following the two wisps with her eyes. Sniffling herself, Lilith held a battered hand over her heart, obviously having seen the display as well. A measure of guilt welled up in her watery eyes, only to be brushed away by Amandil.

"It's not your fault," Amandil whispered, immediately moving Lilith to tears.

The two of them sat there for a good long while, watching the last of the ashes settle into the ground and the sky where her parents had disappeared as little dots over the horizon. Only when they were sure that the reunited couple had moved on to something better did the two of them stir again, saying goodbye to the fateful little clearing one last time.


	12. Knowing

Amandil's heart rate jumped momentarily, her nervousness briefly nipping at her heels again due to the wait. Lilith seemed to be infected by the sensation, smoothing over the initiate's robes that she'd been issued upon her acceptance to study at Nighthaven. While there certainly wouldn't be any sort of ceremony for what Amandil was about to undertake, the dropoff point by which her support circle wouldn't be able to follow was just as nerve racking.

Caledith stood a little closer to them both, her presence at least causing Amandil to relax somewhat. The ancient elf had adopted her into their little clan from the moment she and her cousin had teleported to Moonglade and informed a barrow den guard of what had transpired. Per her parents' wishes, she had lied about a few details, but she felt no guilt knowing that the actions of the bigoted had pushed her to that point. Caledith likely knew that some details had been changed in the story, but she never questioned any of it; however briefly the period had been, she'd functioned as a fine surrogate parental figure for Amandil.

Fewen, the only other person standing next to them in the antechamber of the den, appeared not so much nervous as saddened. Her aunts had already said their goodbyes to the woman who'd been their neighbor for six hundred years, and Fewen had shed a few tears, but she'd insisted on accompanying her friend for as far as protocol would allow. The antechamber was small and cordoned off with a cloth tarp at both doorways, leaving the four of them to say their final farewell in silence. They'd been there a good few minutes, and although there seemed to be a bit of a delay in the preparations, nobody had seized the opportunity to just get the parting of ways over with.

Falling into her role as everybody's grandmother, Caledith stood in front of the trio, not even bothering to clear her throat. "Come on, young ones. Amandil is here; this is her time to reflect. Don't make this harder on her, or yourselves."

Nobody moved at first, ignoring even the serious stare that Caledith sent their way. Dragging her feet, Fewen was the first to take a deep breath and start.

"Mandy...I love you forever," her best friend said while giving her an almost hesitant hug. "So...ah...don't change." The two of them shared a laugh even as Fewen started to cry again, her relative youth in relation to other night elves showing.

"You too...you'd better be waiting for me when I wake up."

"I'll be waiting right here, me and Lilly."

"And don't let any of our other shield sisters fall out of touch. Find them, your aunt Cio, Tirith, Isu...don't leave anybody without support."

Fewen reached up and wiped her cheek. "I won't," she laughed, her voice sounding a bit forced.

When she stepped back, it was Lilith's turn. Clutching Amandil's former staff that was now hers, the brand new druidess stiffened and contained her emotions better. Goddess knew that poor Lilith had arguably been through more than Amandil, her entire life at that village ripped out by the roots. She hesitated a little bit more, and Amandil forced a hug on her.

"Lilly...take care of the cat for me," Amandil joked while tweaking her cousin's half ear. She'd pushed the woman to stop feeling self conscious about it since night elves were known for showing off battle scars at tea houses anyway, and Lilith flinched less than usual when attention was brought to her wound.

"I will," her cousin said, pouting.

"The apartment, the textbooks...please...it's all _yours_. You're one of us now; this is your family. Don't just lock yourself up on weekends."

"We won't let her," Fewen joked, a bit of the light returning to her teary eyes. "I have a copy of the apartment key."

"And if you feel at all like I'm not supporting you enough...like I'm not-"

"No, no!" Lilith replied, a measure of strength in her voice. "I understand, Mandy. I know you have to do this. And...when I'm skilled enough, I'll follow after you." Melancholy temporarily turned to mischeviousness, the sadder moments having already played out during the going away party at Viniel's house. "And then Fewen has to take care of the cat."

"I don't mind!"

The three younger elves all laughed before falling silent again, the reality of Amandil's choice weighing down on them. Before anybody's mood could dampen any further, Caledith stepped in.

"It's time to let go," the told the two younger elves.

Fewen nodded to her grandmother. She reached to hug Amandil again, but settled for a pat on her shoulder instead, and led Lilith out by the arm. Their footsteps were lost on the thick floor of the hollowed out roots that formed the barrow den's chambers, and any trace of them was gone soon after.

Left alone to see off the skillfully advancing druidess, Caledith was considerably more collected. To be expected, considering how many goodbyes she'd already said across fourteen millennia.

"You're not going to be here when I wake up," Amandil sighed contritely.

Caledith just waved her hand. "None of that, now; I already have enough people treating my like the stereotypical wise woman who waits around to give advice and say goodbye."

"I'm so-"

"Dont apologize, either." The closest expression to playful that she'd ever seen Caledith make spread across the woman's face before she became merely pleasant again, and much more so than usual. "You're doing an honorable thing, and your situation makes the choice easier on you than anybody else. Life goes on...people come in and out of your life. Pray for me when you're shaping the world; that's more than enough."

Working hard to contain emotions that had already boiled over at the going away party, Amandil found the sheer power of will to smile. "I will...believe me, I will. And please, don't let Lilith crawl into her shell."

"Not while I'm alive. And agree me, not while Viniel is alive." Footsteps pattered on the other side of the tarp leading further below, and Caledith stepped back. "It's time. You're coming back. Go on, now."

Giving Amandil one last formal bow, Caledith stepped out the other doorway after Fewen and Lilith, not lingering or dragging the scene out. It was the last time they'd see each other. The realization weighed heavily on Amandil's shoulders, and she wondered how much would change.

"Sister Amandil?"

"Yes, of course, Shan'do," she replied to the voice on the other side of the tarp.

Stepping through, Amandil found herself in the atrium of the den's first level. Aside from a single armored guard, the only people present were herself and Geldor Rainsong, the visiting instructor who'd taught her the basics of curative spells. It was he who she'd contacted about volunteering a piece of her life.

The old crow druid tapped his staff on the ground, the pleasant smile never leaving his face. "Shall we then?" he asked, his casual demeanor even more infectious than her mild level of nervousness.

"Yes...I'm ready."

Hobbling due to a bad knee, Geldor led her down an earthen ramp and into the depths of the nearly silent barrow den. The air pressure was high, and the smell calming, and the wordless walk down to the specific chamber that was their goal was far easier for Amandil than she'd expected. Passing only a single other guard, they reached the second level below, and easily found the room in question.

Inside, Amandil could already see her more experienced colleagues. Although the Cenarion Circle no longer discriminated based on gender, women and men still slept in separate chambers out of consideration for social values. Three other women all slept therein, laying on raised mattresses of vegetation that wrapped around them with vines that partially shielded them from view.

Geldor turned around to face her, a joyous but cautious combination of feelings written into his face. "As your adviser, I'm obligated to run through the details with you one last time. Should you wish to pull out, you still have the option to do so."

"I understand, Shan'do," she replied.

"Very well then. Thero'shan Amandil, you're about to embark upon a noble and much needed effort. To give of one's irreplaceable resource of time, now that we've rejoined the ranks of the mortals, is of the greatest sacrifices.

"As you know, the War Against the Nightmare has ended, but the threat to our world has not. Officially, nobody is going into or out of the Emerald Dream at this time; unofficially, measures must be taken beyond the public's knowledge so that they may live in peace. The Dream be maintained at all costs, and the Rift of Aln must be contained. Shan'do Stormrage has predicted a great evil approaching; we will need all of the volunteers we can muster in order to preemptively stabalize the Dream so that the climate and environment here on Azeroth can weather the coming storm.

"Do you accept to be one of those brave, selfless druids who will answer the call of this stabilization?"

"Yes."

"Do you accept the responsibility of bidding your friends loved ones farewell for a period, giving up a portion of your own life for the sake of granting that gift to others?"

"Yes."

"Do you acknowledge the fact that, since time flows more slowly in the Dream, the minimum allowable tour of duty therein will translate into...thirty three years on Azeroth?"

He paused as if to emphasize the amount of time she'd be losing from her personal life - time she'd spend glued to the same small location in the Emerald Dream, infusing her magic into the anchors of that plane with virtually no breaks at all.

But her mind had already been made up. She'd received the gift of a good life from her parents...it was time for her to pay it forward.

"Yes. I acknowledge that fact, and I accept the task before me."

Nodding in approval, Geldor placed his hand just over her forehead as she bowed slightly. Whispering a short prayer, her adviser blessed her with some sort of relaxation aura beyond the serenity that was already provided by the interior of the den itself.

"May the goddess bless you and keep you, always, and return you to us on this plane safe and sound."

"May she bless you as well, Shan'do," she replied while following him inside of the chamber.

Standing before the only bed of vegetation that was empty, Amandil joined the peers who had preceded her and laid down. Moving in accordance with their quasi sentient nature, the vines wrapped around her, keeping her snugly secured to the leafy bed so she didn't roll out of it during her decades long slumber. The larger leaves grew and expanded to form a sort of blanket, as well as a head covering that only allowed a small sliver of the doorway to be seen.

Geldor stood in that doorway until the very end, her guide into the plane behind the environment that their people had sworn to protect. A single flower bloomed in top of her leafy covers, pulsating as spores floated off and toward the little tent over her head. She breathed them in, feeling their soothing properties at the same time that Geldor wove a spell of projection, assisting her in her entrance into the other plane.

Her head woozy, Amandil smiled, shedding no more tears as she fully embraced her duty. So much had been endured on her behalf by her parents; not for one second did she ever doubt that she'd been blessed to have had them, even in the brief amount of time that they'd lived as a loving family. She wouldn't let them down; she wouldn't waste the time she'd been given.

As her consciousness slipped into another world, she watched the colors of the chamber fade into nothingness. A smile remained plastered on her lips the whole time, not as her goodbye to Azeroth, but as her 'see you later.' Until the world was safe, she'd use every second she had to pass on the gift she'd been given. And when that day of safety came, she'd return - and she knew in her heart that she'd continue to make Vindra and Faraldor proud at that time, too.

 **A/N: thank you so much for reading what I imagine might have been a painful story for some. It was painful to write, and I spent a few nights crying alone in my room while writing the last few chapters, but that was where my inspiration led. Sometimes, an easy and comfortable Hollywood ending isn't possible if one wishes to remain true to the soul of the story.**

 **That being said, I do consider this a happy ending. Amandil was a person born with a family possessing a checkered past; they did the best they could considering the circumstances, and she'll do the best she can in honor of them.**

 **Currently, she does appear in a few other stories of mine that are set in the future - stories which take place decades ahead of now on the Warcraft universe's timeline. I'd like to follow her life story a little bit more, but for now, I'm emotionally drained. This story is finished, the closure is there, and even if I take a few years before returning to her story, I'm still happy having given this one the ending I felt most honest.**

 **For those who stuck around to the end, thank you so, so much. For those interested in seeing more of her community - the twenty five women of Serenity Grove - you can check my account on Deviant Art, where I have a posting schedule for other stories involving Amandil's former shield sisters (and Gwynn, who sucks and gets hers eventually). I wish you all the best. :)**


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